


The Encounter

by Lulu3



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Adventure, Dauntless and Amity, Eric Coulter Falls in love, F/M, Making Out, Romance, Secret Lovers, Slow Burn, The one where Everly doesn't leave Amity, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 326,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24870142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lulu3/pseuds/Lulu3
Summary: Weeks into her initiation, Everly is struggling with her decision to stay in Amity. Pressured to stay by her family and friends, things become even more complicated when her chance encounter with a certain Dauntless leader puts her right on his radar. Will he be the one to change her life, or is she just another trophy on his hunt? This is an Eric meets Everly in Amity story!
Relationships: Eric (Divergent)/Original Female Character(s), Four | Tobias Eaton/Tris Prior
Comments: 39
Kudos: 128





	1. Meeting Eric

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an A/U of The Training. Everly chooses to stay in Amity rather than picking Dauntless. Her chance encounter with Eric puts her on his radar, and her whole world is turned upside down as she becomes his total focus. This story contains descriptions of mild violence pertaining to the factionless war. 
> 
> Just a few notes:
> 
> 1\. It took me a second to get this up here, but I decided to post it on A03 after a few requests. I'm working to get all the chapters up. If you are impatient, chapters 1-22 are on FF.Net under the same story name and author name ClubLulu333.
> 
> 2\. This is an Eric meets Everly in Amity story. It might not be what you imagined, how you imagined, but something I've thought about for a while.
> 
> 3\. In this story, it is unlikely Everly will wear pants. At some point, Eric may throw her some leggings. If you are bothered by what she wears or the idea that she doesn't want to wear pants, please move on to a different story. This also features Eric as himself. Don't trust him or anything he's doing.
> 
> 5\. There is no Four.
> 
> 6\. Just kidding. At some point, my favorite scrappy lil guy will return. Don't trust him, either.
> 
> 7\. Harrison is in this story, as well as the rest of the characters from The Training and The Initiation. I will try to get this updated fairly quickly. The chapters will be short, as not to make Amber edit 100 pages a week.
> 
> 8\. Thanks to Bamberlee for editing!
> 
> 9\. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy! 💚
> 
> 10\. All rights to characters and places in the Divergent series belong to Veronica Roth. All original characters and the plot of the story that does not directly mirror events in the Divergent series belong to me. All associated rights reserved, no translations into other languages or re-posting on other websites is permitted without my express written consent.

The world ends on a Tuesday.

I should have known better. The first sign something was wrong were the trucks. I was no stranger to the heavy armored vehicles, but their presence wasn't reassuring. Johanna disliked them in our faction, and not just the trucks. The Dauntless soldiers were never a good sign. While they boasted they were here to keep the faction safe –quite often spitting their own violent and brutal manifesto at us, as though it granted them jurisdiction to be in our faction, they were never here for us.

They were here to see what we were doing.

It was no secret they believed our faction existed to keep theirs alive. Without us, they'd have no food. Sure, someone in a dark uniform might be able to throw together a meal of leftovers or cook a few eggs, but everything they ate came from our fields. Our animals. Our crops and livestock, carefully and lovingly tended to year round. Dauntless always came expecting more, for their faction was dark and deep and never ending, and their soldiers needed to stay strong.

Johanna loathed them too, with as much loathing as someone who didn't believe in loathing could.

Tuesday was different because they weren't just here to pick up extra food or lurk around the barns and bother our horses.

They were looking for someone.

"Everly, did you see them? They were out of their trucks and in the office before Johanna knew they were here."

Courtney whispers the words at me, keeping her voice down while we walk. A few feet ahead of us is Landon and two of his friends. They glance back every so often to make sure we are following them, and I do my best to duck their stares.

Especially his.

It was piercing and hot and aimed at me.

I'd known Landon since I was little. Our lifelong friendship had slowly turned into something else, and I felt like I was being sucked along, whether I wanted it or not. Which I was pretty sure I didn't. Landon had kissed me last week and I had to work hard to stay still. His beard scratched my face and after several painful seconds, I pulled away. I shouldn't have. His father was close friends with my father, and there was a tricky little alliance between them. It was almost expected I'd wind up with Landon, because my father liked him. He was strong. Resilient. A hard worker who adored my dad in a mostly genuine way and respected his work.

A few days ago, on what was one of the few remaining warm sunsets, Landon had taken me down to the lake. I wasn't prepared when it started to turn cool, and I shivered the whole way. He noticed. He offered me his jacket, draped his arm around my shoulders, and tried to suggest I'd be warmer if I took the sundress off and stayed against his chest. He pointed out where we could lie down, and how neat it was that we were the only people out here.

I declined.

It made things awkward, but I had no desire to take things any further with him. Not even if it would solidify my reputation here in Amity as a productive, happy member who had a loving and kind boyfriend.

"Who do you think they're here for?"

I try not to look right at Landon, feeling the unfair flash of hope they were here for him. It would be a relief to discover he was some sort of traitor, whisked away by the men in black never to return. There was a nice rumor that rose up now and then that if they came looking for you, your time was up. No one ever came back from Dauntless, and even so, the thought of him being taken to the deep dark faction made my stomach turn over.

"My mom said it's something about the test," Courtney answers, and she walks a little faster. I try to keep up, but I'm not that enthused to be sprinting toward the Dome. Courtney is just a little taller than me, and her long blonde hair bounces with each step. "Something about people who tested into the wrong faction or…"

She keeps talking, her stride even with Landon now. When she catches up, he turns back to look at me. His eyes are kind when they find mine, and even kinder when I force myself not to scrunch up my face at him before I can help myself. Which I can't. Landon knows I haven't drunk any of the peace serum in months. Choosing Amity might have been expected of me but drinking some slippery syrup that cloaked my emotions into forced happiness wasn't.

Especially during initiation.

I was just supposed to ride this out, proving I could be as kind and wholesome and generous as those doped up on the stuff, until I was official. It wouldn't be too hard. I couldn't imagine being mean on purpose, let alone while everyone was watching.

He understood. I had to give him that. When it came down to it, Landon was one of the few people who rarely drank the peace serum. He liked other things to clear his mind, and he was a firm believer that if you were good, you were good. You didn't need to be altering anything if your intentions were pure.

Which made every single one of his actions make my skin crawl.

"Watch it, Amity."

The words are hissed right as I crash into the black clad Dauntless soldier. For a second, my world is darkness. I collide with his chest, hard and solid beneath the thick uniform jacket, and his hands grasp me by the arm reflexively. It takes everything in me to look up, because he's tall –so much taller than me, and his grip is tight. His fingers curl into my arms to keep me in place, and when I do look up, I'm met with one icy stare.

"You better watch yourself."

I half expect him to let me go, shoving me out of his way, because I'd seen it before. Dauntless didn't care who you were or why you were in their way, only that you were. It wouldn't take much for him to discard me, especially considering my friends were a good distance ahead, having slipped past the soldiers while I was lost in my own thoughts. I'd been too busy trying to think of a way to get away from Landon to notice this one was walking right at me, but there he was.

Currently staring while his fingers skimmed higher.

"Can you not hear me?"

He barks the words at me, and his fingers tighten when I don't answer. I can't. My first impression of him is that he's handsome, and unfortunately so. His personality is as sharp as his jawline, and as cold as the color of his eyes. They are grey, flashing with the utmost of impatience, but the tiniest speck of curiosity.

It was probably the dress.

I'd told my mother it was a little too fairytale-esque for my liking. While I willingly wore everything and anything she made, this one was right out of Zander's bedtimes stories. It had a square neckline that wasn't doing me any favors, long sheer sleeves, and a billowy skirt that was impractical for doing field work.

The soft pink color probably didn't help.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I was thinking…" I pause when he smirks, his lips turning up in amusement that I'm even answering him, and I have to admit he could be in one of the stories. Maybe not as the hero, and certainly not as the side kick, but maybe an evil prince or perhaps the villain who finally has his moment.

"About what? What on Earth could be so pressing here in Amity that you walked right into me?"

For some reason, he still doesn't let go. He steps closer, his boots millimeters away from my shoes and his body so close I can feel how warm he is. I idly wonder if he has a fever. The fabric of his jacket is stiff and unyielding, and it must be hot even on a cool day like this. It barely moves, and it's just as restrained as he is.

"Why are you guys here? Are you looking for someone?" I dare to look right at him, and I'm unable to stop myself before I say the words. I shouldn't be asking him such a thing. My father often preached how the best part of Amity was we accepted things as they were. We didn't make waves by thrashing through our flowers and demanding answers, and we certainly didn't question anyone in authority.

If only he could see me now. I'm sure I'd get marked down for this. Dauntless was an unspoken authority, I would be hard pressed to plead my case against them.

"We are." His answer is short; as sharp as the knives I'd used to dice up the fruit for the snacks today, and as lethal as I would imagine he was. "We're looking for a few people actually. Maybe you can help me."

His words are heavy with mockery, but I don't look away.

I was used to it. Sometimes the soldiers were nice. Sometimes they accepted the water or lemonade or tea, and other times they were assholes. You didn't have to pretend otherwise, because most of us had encountered one or two in our time. The line was clearly drawn between those who seemed to appreciate what we had to offer, and those who found us to rank lower than all the factions combined.

"I can help you," I offer right back, and his lips part open in amused delight. "We're supposed to be at dinner but-"

"Everly!"

"Eric!"

Both of our names are called, answering my unconscious wonder of who he was. I faintly recognized him as someone important from his faction; sometimes Dauntless gave the security announcements or virtual meetings. Johanna was always quiet during them. She shushed whoever was talking and made us pay careful attention as they spewed out rule after rule, or security breach after security breach. I found their rate of success alarmingly dismal, but no one else seemed to.

He was a leader there.

Which meant he ranked higher, higher than the other members, and his authority spanned farther than what I could imagine.

"The fuck are you doing! Who is that?"

Eric finally loosens his grip on my arms as someone approaches. He doesn't let go completely, but he does throw his companion a bored sneer.

"I'm trying to figure out how little Amity here walked right into me. What are you doing? I thought you and Jason were with Carlen."

"Carlen? Hank Carlen?" I wonder what they want with my father, but Eric glances down at me with enough malice that I stop talking.

"We did," the man who is not Jason answers. He eyes me up and down, squinting at the dress and my shoes, and he doesn't look impressed. "He's still there. He wanted me to come find you. You know he hates when you make him do actual work."

"I'll be right there." Eric's hands fall away, and their absence is surprising. "You can tell him I got distracted."

"He won't believe me," his friend answers with the same bored air as Eric. He looks nothing like him, and he appears much nicer. His hair is surprisingly long and wound up and tied on the top of his head. His boots are laced sloppily, and the uniform jacket he has on is unbuttoned halfway down. He looks at me, then Eric, then me again, and winks.

Badly.

"I can wait. I'll let you say goodbye to your future wife. I just wanted to tell you Jason is ready when you are. So far, Hank claims to have seen no one. But you know how that goes. The guy mostly just wants to talk about corn."

My stomach tightens at my father's name, but it tightens even more when Eric looks back at me. His stare is just as steely as before, but in a different way. It falls from my face, down to my collarbone, and over to the pink fabric. It lingers on my hair, dark and wavy and a mess from working with Courtney, and he finally looks at my eyes.

For a moment, neither of us look away, until he smirks.

"Now wouldn't that be funny? Enjoy your dinner, Amity."

He snickers as he walks away, but it feels like he's right there. I swear the ghost of his hands is still on me, even when he joins his long-haired friend. The two of them take off, heading right through the grass and toward Johanna's office.

"Everly! Are you okay?"

Courtney's gasp comes from right beside me. Brave now that he's gone, she takes hold of my hand, and she tries to pull me along with her.

"How did you not see him? We watched you crash into him."

Her question is a very good one. I'd been walking along with her until she started hurrying, and in my own daydreaming, I'd walked right into Eric. He hadn't even told me his name, nor had he done anything other than mock me, but I couldn't shake this weird feeling that this wasn't the last time I'd see him.

I don't know where that comes from. It swirls in my head, something dizzy and tempting and all too appealing.

I can't figure out why.

"I guess I wasn't looking. Thanks for waiting for me," I walk along with Courtney, not wanting to make her wait any longer. Or bring up the point that she let me walk into him. She looks relieved I'm fine, and she must feel guilty for leaving me behind, because she sticks by my side as we walk. Up ahead, Landon waits with his friends, watching carefully. "I just wish I knew why they were here."

"Who knows. Maybe they ran out of lettuce." Courtney jokes, and she speeds up our pace. We make it no more than a dozen steps before I turn to look in the direction Eric went, wondering if he'd gone inside yet.

He hasn't.

When I turn far enough, I'm rewarded with the sight of him.

Looking right at me, with his head tilted and a funny look on his face.

"What did they want?"

I sit next to my father at the dinner table, doing my best to keep his attention.

It wasn't easy; everyone was home tonight, and my mother had invited the neighbors over as well. She'd made quite the dinner, but this meant everyone was loud and louder, and Zander was the worst of all. He sat on the other side of my father, joyously eating off his plate and Leif's, and happily throwing his carrots at anyone who said his name.

It was a swinging change from his obsession with eating only noodles, so my mother was happy.

"Who?" My father looks at me, and his expression is hesitant. "What did who want?"

"The men from Dauntless." I answer back as quietly as I can, because he knew what I was talking about and he didn't want my mother to overhear it. She didn't really like anyone from Dauntless. In fact, she seemed to have an outright aversion to their faction. She rarely went to any of their announcements, claiming Zander was napping or she wasn't feeling well. She was quiet about her dislike of them, but she didn't always hide it so well.

The peace serum helped, though I liked her much better when it lessened as the day went on.

"Everly, do you want some chicken? Forrest brought some over. He said he thought you might need a little extra protein since you've been so busy." My mother smiles, gesturing to the grand display before me. She loved when everyone was at her house, and tonight is no different. "You barely took anything."

"Thank you, I'll have some." I take a piece just to pacify her, and she smiles brightly at me.

"That doesn't look like much," Forrest butts into our conversation, ignoring my glare. He and I were the closest in age, then there was a weird gap. He liked to joke that I'd given them such a hard time as a child they'd waited to have any more. For some reason, this usually caused them to fall silent, until my mother would remind Forrest he was the trouble maker, and I had been nothing short of the perfect toddler. "How are you liking the initiation? It's riveting, isn't it? Lots of dirt and digging and hanging out with the babies."

He wiggles an eyebrow at me, neglecting to mention he almost failed his for letting all the pigs out of the barn on the second to last day of his.

"It's what I thought it would be," I answer carefully, swallowing down a forkful of mashed potatoes. "But…didn't you almost get kicked out of yours?"

"Everly!" My father chastises gently, not really mad. "Leave your brother alone. It was an accident. He wrangled up all the pigs. Anyone could have let them out."

"Except for one. The fucker got away and squealed every time I got near him."

"Forrest!" Both my mother and father say his name, and he snickers into his chicken.

"I got him, though. Eventually," Forrest reminisces fondly, despite their annoyance, and my mother shakes her head.

"Watch your language, Forrest. Your brothers and sisters are listening."

"Yeah, fuckers!" Holly repeats, looking far too angelic to be swearing. "What other words do you say when mom isn't around?"

"Balls. Wanker. Moron," Forrest answers innocently, and my father shoots him the dirtiest stare he can muster.

"Forrest, can it. Why don't you tell us how work is instead of torturing your mother?"

"It's fine. The fuck…nice gentlemen from Dauntless came by today and spent a good hour examining the beers. They seemed like uptight asshol…I mean, they seemed stressed. I offered them drinks but they declined."

"Which ones were there?" I ask, pushing the food around on my plate. "Was Eric there?"

I can feel everyone turn to look at me, and I shrug like his name was common knowledge.

"Eric? Do you know Eric? Their leader?" Forrest looks at me suspiciously, and I stall by eating some broccoli.

"Everyone knows him. He does the announcements from time to time. He always looks…angry." I answer defensively, but it works. My father leans back in his chair and gestures for Zander to come sit with him, and my mother offers Paige some more water. "I saw him with a few soldiers earlier. I was just curious."

"I did see Eric. He acted like an arrogant dick."

"FORREST!"

My parents both say his name firmly, and he laughs off their unimpressed stares.

"Sorry. Okay, he acted like an arrogant moron. Is that better? He stalked around and examined everything like we were hiding someone in the vats of beer. He finally left when one of his friends stepped in cow shit."

"Forrest, go eat outside." My father finally has had enough, and he points to the door. "I don't want Zander going around saying cow shit."

"Cow shit," Zander cheerfully repeats, and he waves his carrots at me. "Everly! Take me to the cow shit!"

"I'll pass." I answer quickly, and my father loses control when Leif laughs so hard milk comes out his nose. This makes Holly choke on the green beans, and she gags hard enough that Wesley turns pale, and also gags. Paisley yells at him not to throw up, which makes Holly choke even more, and Wesley gag even harder.

Forrest cracks up at all of this, but he does stand up with his plate.

"I'll be outside. If Wesley is barfing, I'm not staying in here."

"Forrest!"

My mother tries to get everyone to calm down, but it doesn't work. Ever pleased with the chaos, Zander stands up on the chair next to my father and yells cow shit, over and over, until he steps too far on the chair and it tips over.

He takes half the table down with him, and this time, my father is the one who finally swears.

The night air is cold.

I shiver as I shut the door behind me, softly, hoping the sound won't wake anyone up. Everyone had gone to bed around the same time. I was in charge of Zander, and I'd left him sound asleep in my bed. His presence wasn't unusual; he didn't like sleeping alone, and he often woke up a million times if no one was with him. He had made a beeline for me when our dad wearily announced it was bedtime, and I didn't bother trying to get someone else to put him to bed.

Once he was asleep, I slipped out of the bedroom, down the stairs, past Forrest sitting by the fireplace, and I shook my head threateningly so he wouldn't try and follow me.

He understood.

Forrest like his alone time just as much as I did.

"Be careful, Everly. I heard Dauntless is still here. They haven't given up on their hunt."

He warned me of this when he realized I was going outside, and he watched until I was through the front door. I paused a single footstep out, waiting for him to burst through the door and corral me back in, but he stayed put.

Now, the porch creaks beneath my bare feet no matter how carefully I walk. A few more steps reveal the disappointing discovery that I wasn't at all prepared to be heading outside. It was chillier than I imagined, and I wrap my arms around myself to ward off the cold. It doesn't really work, but I keep going, taking the steps two at a time, until my feet hit cold earth.

The freedom is exhilarating.

It wasn't that I didn't like Amity. I liked living here. I loved my family, I'd made a promise to help my parents, and I had pledged my loyalty to the Amity faction. Once my initiation was over, I would choose between shadowing my mother and working in the small infirmary she ran, or helping my father oversee the green houses he'd built.

Sometimes, the thought of those things is heavy enough that it's hard to take a deep breath.

Soul crushing was how Forrest described it.

He worked with our dad during the day, always with a smile. He never once complained, though I knew he'd rather be elsewhere. In his free time, he worked to ready his at home brewery, and sometimes it bled over into his actual work time, making him late to his chosen job.

I never understood how he felt until I chose Amity and I found myself weeks into our initiation. It wasn't anything Earth shattering. I was selected to work with the younger children and some of the transfers found themselves struggling to be patient. They'd looked smug at the thought of watching children during the day, but by noon, most were desperate for something to take the edge off. A few were disheartened to learn there was no peace serum given until you were an official member, a date that felt lifetimes away.

I wasn't bothered by the kids. I'd grown up surrounded by them, so for me, it was easy.

Until it wasn't.

Until the days felt like they were stretching on forever, and my nights were spent dreading waking up in the morning.

"What are you doing?"

This time, the crash is just as jarring. His hands find my waist as I trip over his boots, my bare feet hitting the stiffly laced leather, and he catches me before I face plant into the dirt. I try to steady myself, but it's a tangled mess of me, his fingers curling into my ribcage, and the thin fabric of my nightgown getting caught between my legs. I glance up hesitantly, expecting to see the same flash of annoyance or smug arrogance that I'd fallen right into him again, but his expression is tense. It's wrought with an underlying worry that quickly vanishes, and it's replaced with a hint of something I can't read.

"I was just going for a walk. I couldn't sleep."

He listens.

His head tilts to look down at me, and up close, he is just as intimidating as before. He inspects the thin straps of the nightgown, and I wish I knew what he was thinking. For some reason, though I don't need his approval for anything, I want him to like me. Or maybe just not dislike me. The thought jumps to my mind as he unconsciously draws me closer, and I can't get rid of it.

He doesn't have any reason to like me.

Or even acknowledge my existence past someone who couldn't see him coming.

To him, I was someone who lived in Amity, and had failed to notice his presence twice now.

"Where do you live?"

His voice is low, rich and warm and I wish he'd keep talking. He seems to prefer to keep most of his words to himself, and I wonder if he has friends. Or if he talks to them.

"A few houses down. Everyone was asleep so I thought I'd get some fresh air." I'm so close that were anyone to catch a glimpse of us, they'd think he was from here. Maybe not from his uniform or his haircut, but because it looks like he's about to pick me up and whisk me inside. "Did you find who you were looking for?"

Eric is silent. His eyes stay on me, so intense that I know I should look away, but I don't. I'm sort of brave. I find enough guts to stare back at him, and I force myself not to notice how warm his hands are. They are firmly against my back, pressing to keep me close.

"You could say that," Eric answers, and his words are dry.

They make me smile. I get the impression he's bored with being here, hours after he first arrived, and he actually hasn't found what he came for. Or maybe he really did, and he was still stuck in his least favorite faction until every soldier was back.

"You really should be inside, Amity. It's not safe right now."

"Why? Who are you looking for?" My hands find his jacket, touching the fabric slowly. It's just as thick as I thought it would be, and I try to imagine wearing it. "Did you…"

"That's enough questions for today," Eric lets go of me, and he knocks my hands away. He stares me down, probably ready to shoot me for touching his precious Dauntless uniform, but he doesn't move. He finally exhales sharply, and there's a tiny ringing sound out of nowhere. Because I don't have one, it takes a long time for me to realize it's his phone. He yanks it out of his pocket, glares at the screen, and shoves it back without answering it. "Come on. I'll walk you home."

His words are surprising. I expected him to leave me standing there, or to yell at me to get lost. I could walk myself home, but I fall in step with him. He moves quickly, but his stride is arrogant as he saunters down the pathway, and every so often I can feel him glancing over at me.

"Stay inside. It'll be better tomorrow." He talks to no one in particular, but I nod. "The factions will be searched again in a few days. Listen to your security briefings. And tell your father to quit fucking around."

He says the last part with a violence I'd expect from him. When I look up, his mouth is pressed into a fine line, and his eyes are dark.

I suddenly realize Eric knows who my father is.

And he very clearly knew who I am.

"I'll pass that on," I answer, knowing it sounds as dry as his own tone, and he eyes me once again.

His gaze is heavy, but not unwelcome.

"Are you sure you don't want my help?" I'm oddly disappointed when we reach my parent's house. It looms to the side of us like an imposing monster, dark and dimly lit except for the living room window.

Eric doesn't answer right away. He's looking at the house, his gaze sweeping up to the second floor, like he's memorizing the layout.

He'd be very surprised to find it was much larger than he thought. The floor plan twisted and turned, going from room to room, expanding enough to house all of us and then some.

"I don't think you can help me the way I need." Eric steps closer, and the chill returns to the air when he shoves me forward. The action isn't as rough as it could be, and he grasps my arm before I make it to the second step. "Wait. What's your name, Amity?"

I stare back at him, still nowhere near his actual height, and he's dead serious. He doesn't smile. He waits for me to answer, and every so often, his gaze moves from my eyes, to my mouth, then to my shoulder.

Maybe he missed it earlier when Courtney said it, but I'm oddly curious why he's asking.

"Everly." I step down a single step, back toward him, and I wonder where he lives. I suddenly wonder all sorts of things about him. What his home looks like. What he looks like without his jacket on. Who cuts his hair. Where he ate his breakfast. "What's yours?"

He smirks, his lips turning up at my question, and he knows I've seen him before.

His arrogance would be infuriating, except he steps closer too, so close that all I see is black.

"Eric. One of the leaders of Dauntless."


	2. Landon The Not So Great

The interrogation starts first thing in the morning.

"What were you doing with him?"

Holly lounges on my bed, watching me try to pick out something to wear. Her presence isn't unwelcome, but she'd shown up twenty minutes ago, and proceeded to do nothing but question me about the Dauntless soldiers.

"Who?"

"The one on our porch steps. Don't try to play dumb. Do you know him?" Holly doesn't hold back any punches. She looks at me, twisting her hair around her finger and waits for me to answer. "Everly…"

"Were you spying on me?" I glance over my shoulder, and she smiles.

Evilly.

"I was bored, and I just happened to be looking out the window, and there you two were. So…what were you doing? Do you know that guy?"

"No, I just know he's one of their leaders. And…we've all seen him talking. Last week, he was the one talking about factional boundaries or…something." I stare at the dresses in my closet, trying to remember what Eric had been talking about during the last virtual announcement. I hadn't been listening as well as I should have, because Landon kept elbowing me and laughing when I swatted him away. "I ran into him and I thought maybe I could help them if they needed it. We're supposed to help whoever asks."

"You? You want to help the men from Dauntless? What are you going to do? Bake him a pie?" Holly is dead serious, and her voice rises up in dramatics. "I bet he doesn't even eat dessert."

"Probably not. I don't know!" I answer her irritably, both at her lowkey, secret agent boredom and the fact that I'm about to be late. I finally grab the first dress I can. It's pink, like almost everything in my closet, but a darker pink. "He said they're looking for someone. We've had lots of people coming in and out of here. Maybe it's one of them or maybe it's someone I crossed paths with. Anyway, go get dressed. You're going to be late for school."

"I'm not going. I'm sick," Holly grins, and she flips her hair to the other side. "I told mom I was going to throw up and she said I could stay home."

I turn to really look at her, and she's most definitely not sick.

"Okay, I just don't want to go. We're supposed to be learning about taking care of the chickens and I don't want to. I'll make it up tomorrow." She lies back on my bed, nearly kicking Zander in the face, and she carefully nudges him with her foot. "Does he ever sleep in his own room?"

"No, but he can sleep in yours if you want," I point out, and I realize I'm going to be late for my own class. It wasn't so much I had to attend one, but my initiation group was supposed to meet in twenty minutes to spend the day with a bunch of toddlers. "Go…make some toast or something. I have to get ready."

"Okay, well hopefully Eric likes your dress. If he comes back," Holly answers with a hint of mockery, and when I glare at her, she smiles. "I saw you guys on the steps. Did he kiss you? I bet it would be gross if he did. Slobbery."

My glare isn't enough to wipe the smug look off her face.

"No, he told me it wasn't safe to be out and to go home." I answer, even though it's obvious she doesn't believe me. She props herself up on her elbows and squints at me, trying to detect if I'm lying. "That's it. Nothing else, Holly."

"He looked like he was going to kiss you."

"He wasn't," I answer defiantly, because I was pretty certain he wasn't going to do anything of the sort. He'd asked for my name, but more than likely so he could mark down that I wasn't in my house. "Now leave. Before you wake up Zander."

"Fine," Holly climbs off the bed, but she stops at my doorway. "I just came in here to tell you I bet he comes back. I think he likes you"

"Who?" I grab a second dress, equally impractical and equally pink, and I try to downplay my interest in listening to her.

"Eric."

"I met him once." Twice. "I highly doubt he cares. I was just trying to do my part."

"Your part. Okay." Holly answers in a sing songy voice, and she finally leaves. "Good luck today. It's supposed to rain. Your fancy dress is gonna get all muddy."

"Goodbye, HOLLY." I wait until the door shuts, and I hear her heading downstairs, and I hope she keeps quiet.

I highly doubt she will.

By the time I make it downstairs, she's in the kitchen with my mom, slyly picking out ingredients to make a cake and looking pretty darn smug.

Holly was right.

It does rain.

The skies blacken with each passing second, and fat wet drops pour down without any mercy. The storm forces us inside, which is the last place I want to be.

Same thing with the children.

"This is nuts. They're out of control!" Sophia laughs, watching one of the youngest kids fling finger paint in our direction. I step away from the line of fire, not wanting to be covered in the bright paint, and she gets most of it on her. "Everly! You jerk!"

"I'm sorry!" I try to keep a straight face as some lands in her hair, giving her a nice sloppy red streak, and she doesn't even bother to wipe it out. "I just took a shower."

"They're extra crazy today. It must be the weather. Here I was thinking this was going to be easy," Sophia is the same height as me, and she's dressed similarly. She smiles widely as one of the older kids, no more than four years old, shows her his painting, then demands she pick him up. "Do you think they're ready for lunch?"

"Probably," I glance around, feeling the claustrophobia setting in.

It was barely eleven.

I'd shown up right as the final child was dropped off. Parents in Amity had the option of leaving their children with us, for whatever amount of time they needed. Some of them were working in the fields, trying to harvest whatever they could before it got too cold. Some were working in the greenhouses. Some were doing community chores, laundry, working with the livestock or helping in the kitchens. The community came together to watch their children so they could work, and part of our initiation was to help with those who couldn't be left alone.

I enjoyed it at first.

Our beginning weeks were easy. Most of the children were adorable, wanting nothing more than our attention and someone to play with, and they were excited to have us with them.

But now, I was really tired of fighting with them to eat their lunch or not wander off into the woods.

"You know what? Why don't I go see if they're ready for us? Maybe we can take them early," I offer to both her and Courtney, and the lone woman overseeing all of us. Her name is Mable, and she works quickly and efficiently as she counts heads to make sure they're all inside. "Mable, are you good with that idea?"

"Yes, please. Landon should be in the kitchens. I don't think anyone will mind but do ask if it's alright." Mable answers without skipping a beat. After years of working here, she's unfazed by the children running around. Her long red hair is parted down the middle, and she smiles at everyone. Even the ones throwing paint.

She didn't appear to be high off any peace serum, but I'm starting to get suspicious. No one could willingly want to be around all these terrors for this long.

"I'll be right back," I promise, doing my best to ignore the pleading stares from a few of the transfers.

It was becoming apparent they'd come here thinking they'd picked an easy faction. A few had boasted they'd chosen Amity because they'd heard living here was a breeze. One boy, tall and dark and reasonably handsome, said his only goal was to find a wife, be assigned somewhere to live, and work for a few hours a day before returning home to his wife cooking him dinner.

He was in for a rude awakening when he realized the farmers worked before the sun rose, and often didn't return until it set.

And that half of us barely knew how to cook because we all lived at home.

"Okay, and if not, we'll stall. Maybe your dad wants some company this morning." Mable plucks a tray of paints from a tiny child ready to dump them on the ground, and gestures for me to go. "Liam, you come with me. Let's draw a picture for your mom and dad. I bet they'd love one for a present."

I escape just as Liam agrees. He happily follows Mable back to the table with his friends to draw his parents what will undoubtedly end up being something incomprehensible, but he'll say it's a cow. I smile goodbye, and I only hesitate outside the large doors for a single moment, contemplating how I'm going to get to the kitchens without getting drenched.

I don't really have any other option.

I take off, walking quickly, then eventually running and trying to dodge the rainfall.

I make it there in record time, and I come to a dead stop when I find Landon standing outside the entryway. He waves, his long brown hair hanging down to his shoudlers and his shirt a size too large, and there's an ease about him that makes me nervous.

He was the perfect Amity member. No one would ever think he didn't belong here. He took everything with grace, accepting it as it came, and he was unbothered by an obstacle in his path.

I didn't have that same ease.

He once promised it would come with age. He spoke like he was much older, rather than a few years, and told me one day, I'd find myself content with the way of life here.

"You're all wet."

He heads right over to me, grinning as the rain dampens his shirt, and he reaches for my hand. I let him pull me back to the shelter of the doorway, and notice he looks genuinely happy to see me.

I don't quite share his same enthusiasm.

"I just came to see if the kids could come to lunch earlier than usual. The rain is making them extra crazy," I drop my hand away from his, wiping my hair out of my eyes and squeezing some water from the ends. "Mable said I should ask if that's alright."

"Of course, they can come early. They might like a little walk in the rain," Landon looks at me, slow and warm, and it's only a single second before he reaches down to move my hair out of the way. His fingers are rough when they touch my cheek, proof of his time working outdoors. "Are you cold? I can get you a shirt to throw on."

"No, I'm alright, but thank you." I do my best to smile back, reminding myself he was kind. He was good. Safe. He was someone who would one day ask me to marry him, and I'd wind up walking our own children to lunch.

The wave of nausea at this idea is immediate.

I don't know why.

He certainly wasn't repulsive.

"I'll have someone run back so you don't get any wetter." Landon whistles for his friend to come over, and he quickly instructs him to fetch Mable and the group. "Come with me. I want to show you something."

I hesitate, long enough for him to take my hand again.

He holds onto it while we walk into the kitchen, right up until the very moment we find the soldiers from Dauntless waiting.

"Neither of you have left Amity in the past few days? Not even for a delivery?"

This time, there are three of them.

Not Jason, with his hair down in all its long, tangled glory.

The one who I'm guessing is Jason, with long red hair up in a bun. He looks as friendly as Not Jason, though both are fairly serious.

And Eric.

I don't know why, but the minute I saw him, I tore my hand away from Landon and stepped to the side. It was a smart choice, because Eric was looking right at me. His gaze was intense, focused solely on me as I walked in. He wasn't happy, not even close. I could see it in his jaw, clenched tightly and tensed as his comrades spoke, and his shoulders. While pulled down to reveal his indifference at being here, they were stiff. To someone passing by, he appeared causal, but I had a feeling he was anything but.

"No, I've been working here all week," Landon answers, holding both his palms up at them. "I don't think Everly has gone anywhere, have you?"

He looks at me, and they follow suit. Not Jason and Jason stare at me intently, until there's a flicker of recognition from the one who'd come to find Eric yesterday.

"Everly," Not Jason says my name, drawing it out much longer than necessary. "You haven't gone anywhere out of the ordinary, have you? Into the woods? Or…over to another faction?"

"No," I shake my head, fighting down the searing panic rising up. They'd been here looking for my dad, but that didn't explain why they were back. "I've been here. I'm working with…"

"She's going through the initiation class, so she really can't leave," Landon interrupts, and I remember one of the less fun things about him.

These past few months he'd taken to speaking for me. If the opportunity arose –if someone asked me if I wanted dessert while dining in the Dome, if someone offered to walk me home who wasn't him, if someone asked if I was interested in visiting for coffee or tea, Landon answered for me. He believed he was doing me a service; I often felt awful turning people down when they wanted company, and he knew it.

It felt a little gross.

He was using my empathy to his advantage, and I wasn't stupid enough to think otherwise.

"You're in the initiation class here?"

This time, Eric speaks, and he sounds highly amused. His voice has a mean edge to it, the kind the soldiers had when they goaded us after they took what they wanted. "How old are you?"

"Can I ask what initiation even is here? Goat milking? Chicken racing? Donkey jousting?" Not Jason laughs. "If you say yes, I'm going to be really jealous. I got punched in the face during our initiation."

"You're in luck. Donkey jousting is today if you're interested," I answer back in complete seriousness, and his face lights up.

"I'm in."

"Everly!" Landon looks surprised, but I don't know why. "She's joking. We don't treat the animals like that. Our initiation is serious. Adapting to our way of life isn't some joke. It's not…"

"How old are you?"

I look up to Eric staring at me. He stands with his spine straight, and his head cocked. He's waiting for me to answer him, and I have a feeling there's a reason he's asking a question he already knows the answer to.

"Eighteen."

He doesn't like my response.

I can see it in the way his lips curl up and his eyes narrow.

"Great." He answers flatly, then gestures to his friends. "I think we have what we need. We can stop by the office to let Johanna know we'll be back. For now, your deliveries are to run as scheduled. If you need to change anything, she's to let us know immediately."

"Sure, yeah. Anything to help," Landon answers quickly, but he's not entirely thrilled. His posture mirrors Eric's as his shoulders tense, but he loosens them. "Do you want some lunch to take with you? I could have Everly make you something."

I glance up at him in sheer annoyance at being treated like I was his personal assistant. I didn't work in the kitchens. I could have. I could have chosen the food service as an area to train in, but I didn't.

Because I couldn't cook.

The few times my father had tried to show me were disastrous. I lost interest immediately, couldn't convert anything from cups to teaspoons to tablespoons, and had no clue how to turn on the stove.

I could bake, though.

For some reason, baking was entirely different.

"God, no." This time, Eric laughs, slick and mean enough that Landon gets the hint. "The food here is inedible."

"No offense, but we have work to do." Not Jason answers brightly, well aware of Eric's insult. "Besides, Harrison is waiting for us outside. He just texted me and said to hurry the fuck up."

"I should go get the class, anyway." I step away from all of them, figuring it had been long enough that Mable and the others should be here. "It's a lot for them to handle."

"Of course," Landon responds, and he's not as happy as he appears to be. He'd wanted to show me something in the back of the kitchen, but we'd walked in to find the Dauntless soldiers milling around. They were inspecting some of the food being sent out; I watched one check the labels on the boxes, and another look at our list of deliveries for today. It didn't look like a ton was going out, but it was enough to garner their attention. "Come back here when you're done."

I ignore him.

I leave before the soldiers, and I make it out of the kitchen and into the main dining area. I pass through the tables quickly, toward the large doors of the Dome, and I throw them open. I make it a solid three steps before someone grabs me, and I yelp in surprise.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" I blurt out my apology once I see the dark jacket, and I look up to a man staring down at me. He's older, his hair cropped short but sticking up like he hadn't combed it, and his eyes bright and flashing. "I didn't see you. I was looking for the class and…"

I stop talking, because he lets go like his hands have caught fire. He steps back, eyeing me warily, and I notice his jacket is buttoned tightly. The dark black accentuates his tan skin, but more so, the color of his eyes.

A very familiar green.

Like Forrest's.

They flash even more when another hand grabs my arm, and I look up to see my mother standing there. Her fingers curl around my arm firmly enough that I look up in surprise, and her expression is unusually tight.

"What are you doing here?"

She speaks in a tone I haven't heard before. There was never anything sharp about her. Nothing mean or angry, never annoyed or suspicious. She accepted everyone, helped anyone who needed it, and would do anything to keep things peaceful.

But now, there's an underlying scrape to her words, and I don't know who she's talking to.

"I came to see if the class could come to lunch."

"I'm here on business."

The man and I answer at the same time.

My mother blinks at both of us, her hair damp from the rain and her dress the same and she doesn't move. Her fingers stay on me, gently and invisibly inching me closer to her.

I wonder if she's afraid of him.

"Everly, come inside."

"Eden, don't…"

He says her name quietly, but he makes no move toward her. Before I can ask how he knows her, he keeps speaking.

"Keep her inside. Keep all of them inside. Erudite is looking for-"

"Harrison! Hey, Eric said I should drive back with you," Jason appears through the same doors I'd come from, and he surveys the scene before him. "You guys okay?"

"I was just coming to find my daughter. I wanted to join her for lunch," my mother answers, slowly, and she pulls me closer. I knew sometimes the peace serum made her loopy. She took it, like was expected, but I could always tell. Her words were soft and quiet, until the serum was wearing off. Then she was alive, her true self not dulled by the demand to stay peaceful no matter the case. "Why are you here? My husband said…"

"We're leaving," the man in front of me cuts her off, and he steels himself until his expression is dark. "Now."

"Hey, you want to drive?" Jason glances at me, then my mother, then the man. "Harrison, are you okay?"

"Fine. Never been better. I'll meet you at the truck," he answers dully, and he doesn't wait for Jason. He turns on his heel and stomps off, leaving us all standing there.

"Sorry, he's a little…a little off today. Amity isn't his favorite place to be," Jason apologizes, and his eyes are mischievous. "You guys have a good lunch. I'm sure we'll see you again soon."

"Thanks."

I answer for us, watching him sprint to catch up to Harrison. My mother is silent until he does, and once they vanish from our sight, she drops her hand from my arm and lets out the breath she was holding.

"Do you know him?" I whirl around to face her, wondering what was going on. I didn't like this; the appearance of Dauntless in our faction wasn't good, and two days in a row was especially not good. "Mom? Do you know that man?"

She looks at me, pulling her arms in closer, but her stare goes back to the direction Harrison and Jason went.

There is nothing but woods and trees, and their trucks must be parked further out.

My mom swallows, and she gestures for me to follow her into the Dome.

"Not anymore."

Lunch is stupid.

I spend most of my time not eating, but occasionally choking down a single bite in between making sure the kids stay at their tables. They don't have to; it wasn't uncommon for the kids to wander around while they ate, or to join other tables and adults. But today, it's super crowded. Everyone comes in at the same time, desperate to find some solace from the rain, and the seating was limited.

"Is Landon upset with you?"

Courtney is the first one to notice my sour mood, and Landon's. I hadn't gone back to see him after Dauntless left. I'd found Mable and Sophia arriving with the class, and I dove into helping them find seats. Twenty minutes later, I was handed a plate of turkey, carrots, apples, salad, and a muffin, and I took the last empty seat next to Courtney.

"He keeps looking over here," she observes, taking a bite of her own sandwich. "Shoot, am I allowed to eat this?"

"No, there's nothing in it. They only put the peace serum in the drinks today. They're trying to stretch it. There's a rumor Erudite is behind on making it, and they're trying to catch up. They sent out a message claiming it goes further if it's put in the drinks," Mable answers as she zips by, with toddlers holding onto each of her hands. "The next shipment comes in next week. Normally, Dauntless delivers it, but this time, they're asking for our help. I expect Landon and the others will go pick it up."

She's helpful, but cut off when someone starts crying, having spilled their apple juice everywhere.

"This is going to be one long day," Sophia closes her eyes, and she shakes her head. "I know it's not supposed to be easy, but did anyone think we'd have more free time? I feel like I can't even go to the bathroom without someone following me."

"I agree." I sound disheartened, but I can't shake the weird feeling that something was going on. "Um, I'm going to grab another drink. Do you want anything?"

"No, we're good," Courtney answers, then a second later, she yelps for one of the younger boys to stop smacking his friend. "No! Zachary that's not nice!"

I stand up, grateful when no one follows.

I head to the line where the kitchen staff is passing out tea, and I enjoy a whole thirty seconds of no one needing anything from me.

It ends when Landon appears, his expression unhappy as ever.

"Who is he?"

This time, she looks right at me.

There are no distractions, because everyone else has gone to bed. Our house is quiet except for a few creaks and groans from the foundation, and my mother pauses washing the glass in her hands. It clinks against the sink, and she defers by pointing at the bowls on the counter.

"Will you hand me those?"

I do; I grab all of them, and I join her at the second large sink. I turn the faucet on, and I rinse off the bowl previously filled with Zander's macaroni and cheese. It was all he would eat today, but luckily, we had plenty.

Landon had made some to take to him.

He'd shoved it at me in a surprising fit of anger, and it was to plain to see he was mad. He had snapped to take the meal home with me, then left without another word.

"You can tell me. Do you know…the guy in the uniform? The older one?"

"Older?" She looks at me, her eyes crystal clear, and we both know she can't pass this one off in a happy haze. "He's not that old."

"He's older than me," I point out. "And you."

She side eyes me, but to be fair, I don't know how old he is.

I wonder how old Eric is.

"He's a leader there?" I guess while I scrub the bowl, trying to conjure up what he looked like. I remember he was tall, and his eyes were green. He didn't look like everyone else from Dauntless, but his uniform loudly announced he'd kill me if necessary. "It seemed like he knew you…"

"Everly," my mother stops, and she turns to look at me. Her eyes are wide with worry, right there, burning behind her stare. "Yes, he is a leader there, but he's dangerous. They're all dangerous. They are in place to make sure things stay under control. Not our control, but theirs. Their presence here is not good. If they talk to you, tell them what they need, and move on."

"They said they're looking for someone," I rinse off the bowl, and she freezes.

"Did you talk to them?"

"Yeah, I talked to…" I pause, because the ceiling creaks above us. The wood beam groans, and the footsteps tell us someone is walking down the hallway upstairs. "Eric. He said his name was Eric."

She's silent. She turns the cup over in her hands, and I swear it's a whole minute before she exhales sharply. "Did he ask your name?"

"Yeah," I turn the water off, and I set the bowl on the rack to dry. "Do you know Eric?"

"No, I've heard of him. He's not any less dangerous than the others. Maybe more dangerous. He has close ties to the other factions and…"

She stops speaking when my father appears, his hair rumpled and his expression tired and not pleased. "Eden, are you coming to bed? Zander is waiting for Everly."

He looks at me expectantly, and I don't say anything.

Putting Zander to bed had become my unofficial job, and I would love to have a single night when he wasn't kicking me in the face.

"We're finishing the dishes. Can you keep Zander entertained for a minute? Then I'll be up there." My mother struggles to keep her voice even. It was easier on peace serum, and less easy when she was completely coherent. "Hank, please.."

"Fine." He doesn't like her answer. I'd noticed him looking oddly irritable every now and then. Sometimes at Zander. Sometimes at Forrest.

Often at me.

I tried to stay away, thinking he might be feeling overwhelmed with new initiates showing up, the demands for more food, and soldiers in his business.

"It's okay. I'll go get him. I can finish these later." I step away from the counter, and my mother is still silent. I notice she looks tense, and she doesn't say anything until I head upstairs. Once I reach the second one, my father asks her what's wrong.

Her words are quiet, but firm as she very gently tells my father Zander is not my responsibility.

"Outside."

Zander whispers this against my face. I shove him away, longing for the days when he preferred to sleep in my parents' bed, and wondering when I had become his preferred nighttime entertainment.

"Everly, take me outside."

He's insistent; he puts both of his hands on my cheeks and forces me to look at him.

In most cases, he's darling.

He has large eyes, dark and green and full of mischief, and longer brown hair. He rarely let anyone cut it or comb it, and he preferred to never be dressed. I liked him ninety percent of the time. There were days, and especially nights like tonight, when I wanted some quiet. I wanted to lie here with my own thoughts, and not have someone kicking me, or insisting we go outside at one in the morning.

"It's too late," I jerk my head away from him, and his whine is immediate. "Zander, go bother Forrest. I'm too tired."

"Not here." Zander's voice grows louder, and it won't be long before he wakes everyone up. Which meant someone else would come get him, but there was a chance it would be my father. "Everly, please. Please. Please. Please. Please."

"Zander…"

"Outside! Now!" He yells the last part, and I sit up. "Good Everly."

"I'm never having children." I inform him, and he doesn't care. "Ever. I just want to sleep through the night once. You're not even…"

"Everly!"

I look up into the darkness, and it's hard to tell whether it is one of my siblings, or a demon coming to take my soul.

"Everly, they're in our backyard."

It's both.

Holly creeps into my room, joining Zander and I on the bed, and she looks terrified.

"I went downstairs to get some water, and there was someone outside the window. I thought I was dreaming, but a second later, I saw someone in uniform."

"What?" I throw the covers off of me, and Zander crows in delight that we were getting up. "Where?"

"Outside!"

She follows me out of the bedroom. She's nearly knocked out of the way as Zander fights to be first, and he is. He takes the stairs three at a time, and we all reach the backdoor at once.

"You're going out there?" Holly looks horrified, and she tries to stop me. "Didn't Eric tell you to stay inside?""

"Yes, but…maybe…maybe I know one of them."

This was a stretch. I'd met Eric, Jason, Not Jason, and the man from earlier. The chances of me knowing who was in our backyard was slim to none.

"Just...stay here," I whisper, and I unlock the door. "Both of you."

Zander is quicker than me. He rushes past me, gleefully jumping into the dark night. "OUTSIDE!"

He gets a whole foot away before the man outside says my name.


	3. Secrets and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bamberlee for editing! I'm still working to get these updated and caught up with FF.NET so I appreciate your patience!

The fear is burning hot.

It swells, threatening to swallow me whole, until I realize the person in our backyard is not anyone from Dauntless.

Or anyone to be afraid of.

Not entirely.

"What are you doing? Why are you out here?"

I ask Landon this less than nicely, and the look he throws me is equally unpleasant. Our tolerable relationship from a single day ago slowly dissolves with each second. Landon, always kind and unflappable, is obviously bothered by being caught red handed. He must not have wanted me to see him. That's why he's dressed in unusually dark clothing as he strolls through our backyard in the middle of the night.

"Why are you awake?" Landon steels his expression, carefully dismissing whatever was bugging him and smiling tightly at Zander. "Z, what are you doing, buddy? It's late."

He moves closer to us, stepping into dim lights that were long burned out and only halfway replaced, and I feel a flash of annoyance that my father's greenhouse job prevented him from taking care of the house.

"Everly? Holly? How many of you are up?"

Once in the dull light, Landon's face is illuminated. I'm familiar with how he looks, but in the dark and the weak light streaming from the wonky, off balanced sconce, he looks ghoulish. His cheekbones cut through tan skin, and his hair is a mess. It's no wonder Holly panicked, because he's almost unrecognizable.

"Holly saw you outside. She said you were with someone in uniform." I reach for Zander, pulling him away from Landon, and for once, he listens. Zander's tiny hand clings to mine, and his chant of outside comes to a screeching halt.

"Everly, inside. Inside. Inside," he whispers frantically, tugging on my hand as hard as he can.

"Is there someone else out here?" I turn, gently guiding Zander over to Holly, and I gesture for her to take him inside. "Hey, I'll be right in. Can you get him some water? And take him upstairs? Don't wake anyone else."

"Yes," Holly answers, her eyes wide. She holds my stare, and her trembling nod is confirmation Landon isn't alone. "Everly, are you sure? Maybe I should get dad?"

"No, it's fine. I need to talk to Landon. I should…" I pause, and I glance back to throw him one wide smile. "I didn't get to see him after lunch and we have a few things to catch up on. I'll be right back. Go inside."

Holly hesitates, and she only listens because I insist one more time. I wait until the door shuts, then I turn and take a very tentative step toward Landon.

"I'm sorry I didn't come back after lunch. I had to go back with the class. I thought you knew…"

He listens, and I hold my breath hoping this works.

"Are you okay, Landon?"

"It's fine. I know you have initiation. I wasn't mad, just…I was hoping to see you." He smiles back, and my stomach turns over unpleasantly.

Landon might not have been dangerous in the way most thought, but he was smart. There was a reason he was here, and I knew whatever he was about to say wouldn't be the truth.

"I wanted to tell you to be careful around the soldiers. They aren't here to help us. They're here to…to…" Landon pauses, and when he walks over to me, he looks normal. Gone is the harsh lighting and the weird sharpness, and back is Landon. Tall and gentle, unassuming as ever. "They're here looking for people so they can take them. I just found this out. I've been talking to some people who know more about why they're here. That's who I was with. We came by to see if Forrest was up."

"Forrest?" I blink up at him, and he nods.

"We need his help," Landon explains, a little too kindly.

I frown, unable to stop it. I hate that whatever he's planning is for someone stronger or bigger than me, but he would easily make the leap to thinking I couldn't help. "I'm pretty sure he's asleep. Who was with you?"

"It's okay. You should go inside and help Holly. Tell Zander sorry I scared him, and I'll be back this week," Landon is right in front of me, and I recoil when he raises his hand like he's about to touch my face. "I'm sorry I scared you, too. I was just…there's some stuff going on and I want to be on the right side. I want you to be on the right side, too. I mean, it's you and me, right?"

I stare up at him, and the same worry from before is back. It makes my stomach hurt, a sick dizzying feeling, and I wonder what he knows. I wonder if this person was telling him things that weren't true, or if I wound up afraid enough, I'd solidify a relationship with him.

"I'll tell Zander you'll see him soon. Do you promise me you'll go home?"

He doesn't answer. His silence is overwhelming, but the outside is not quiet. There's a rustle of leaves, a low howl from the trees, and someone whistling in the distance.

I take this as my cue to go back inside.

"Landon?"

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Everly."

He smiles once more, less forced but still not genuine, and leans in to kiss the side of my head. He lingers there until I tense up, then he's gone. I watch him leave until I can't see him, but I can hear him. He walks along the side of our house, through a creaky gate, and there's a hushed conversation when he finally meets up with someone.

I can't see who.

I try, but all I catch is a blur of dark, and two heads disappearing onto the pathway.

It takes me a long time to fall back asleep.

I wind up lying there, with Zander's feet on my arm, staring into the darkness. Every so often, there's a groan as the house settles or Zander mumbles in his sleep, but otherwise, it's quiet.

It only intensifies my fear that not only was something going on –something that could put Landon in danger, but he was going to use it to work his way closer and closer.

I could tell him no, but there was no telling how long he'd listen.

"Six. Seven. Eight." Zander counts loudly, sloppily dropping the cookie dough onto the tray. "Nine!"

"Eleven, ninety-seven, two thousand."

Leif interrupts his counting. His arrival is brief, but annoying. He stays only to pop a chunk of raw cookie dough in his mouth, and he leaves snickering when Zander yells he's counting wrong.

"Later, Z. I'm going to read a book. And I'm right. Eleven comes after eight."

"Nine is next!" Zander shrieks, but Leif merely waves from the stairs. We hear him clomp up them, having come down here solely to annoy us, and then his bedroom door slams shut. "LEIF! EVERLY!"

"Who cares? You can count and he can't," I try to pacify the situation, but I'm mostly distracting myself. "Want to put them in the oven?"

"NO," Zander sulks, and our cooking lesson is officially over. "No, no, no."

I sigh heavily, because I share his annoyance.

It was the weather.

To add to the gloom and doom of whatever was occurring, it had been raining for days now. Everyone in Amity was a little less pleasant. I wouldn't say they were upset or angry, but their patience was understandably and reasonably stretched thin. Mable, unwavering in her dedication to raising Amity's youngest members, had to take an extra break or two when two of the kids got into the horse stalls and threw hay everywhere. Sophia and Courtney were struggling to remain happy; one of the transfers had already proposed, hoping to secure one of them as their future wife. Neither accepted, and once word got out, things became tense between the transfers and the Amity born, as they realized this wasn't going as smoothly as they thought it would.

My parents weren't very cheerful, either.

The rain flooded the fields, and the farmers were already struggling to keep up with the demands. The green houses flooded, one cracking when a large tree branch fell onto it, and this left my father extra pressed for time. His appearance at home was scarce, and when he did come home, he was tired. He had initiates training beneath him, Johanna asking when everything would be fixed, and Landon, erratically doing his best to fix everything and then some.

He was thriving.

Landon had shown up a day ago with breakfast from the kitchen. He made my mom tea and toast. He ate with his leg touching mine and his boots kicking my bare feet. Once done, he laughed and played with Zander, carrying him through the house on his shoulders. He tried to kiss me goodbye, but I turned my head at the last second, and he left looking disappointed as ever.

I didn't trust him.

I couldn't explain where it came from, but there it was. The thought settled uncomfortably in my mind, even though he was telling me otherwise. I assumed it was because he'd been in our backyard in the middle of the night, along with someone I still didn't know. The unease of what he told me wasn't going away, not even with his efforts. Today, he brought me flowers, upping his carefully crafted courtship, and my father was home for all of it.

I caught the look on his face, pleased and approving, and I knew my chances of getting away with not marrying Landon were dwindling.

"Do you want to bring these to dad when they're done baking?" I ask Zander, and even he knows I am desperate. I liked baking, but my dad was usually home when I did it. Today, I'd braved heating the oven myself, and I'd volunteered to watch Zander so he could help me. My mother looked relieved, but curious.

She should be.

I was about to launch my Don't Make Me Marry Landon Plan, and I needed them on low alert.

And in better moods.

"No."

"Okay, well then, you can go take a nap and I'll tell dad I made them all by myself," I retort, knowing there was no point in arguing with someone who couldn't tie his own shoes. "So there."

Zander stays silent, but he eyes me so darkly that I know he won't stay in Amity. While vast and spacious, there was not enough land or people to quench Zander's thirst for adventure.

Or his need for constant entertainment.

"Bad Everly."

I smile and roll my eyes, because I couldn't entirely disagree with his statement.

We show up right after lunch.

My father looks both surprised and strangely relieved at our arrival. Zander had come with me after some major bargaining on my part. I had never thought I'd be making a deal with someone so small, but there I was, agreeing to a drawn out playdate with our neighbors and a day at the lake, including letting Zander jump in no matter how cold it was. `

We'd brought the cookies with us, still warm and missing a few bites thanks to Zander, but we'd made it. My mother watched us leave, sinking onto the couch with a zoned out look on her face and I knew she'd had way more peace serum than normal. I promised her we'd be back soon, but I don't think she heard me. My guess was she'd fall asleep, and hopefully, Leif or Wesley wouldn't burn the house down.

"Are you two keeping busy? Don't you have class today?" He peers at us over a row of plants I can't identify, and Zander reaches for one before I pull his hand away.

"We don't have it today. It's our day off. We thought we'd bring you some cookies we made." I answer brightly, holding the cookies and trying to keep Zander from knocking down every single thing in here.

The green houses are large.

They rise up higher than one would imagine, and the glass panes are foggy now that the rain is letting up. It's warm in some spots; the air is humid and damp, but it's all to create the perfect ecosystem for the plants and crops growing. We have a variety of these, all built so we could feed the factions year-round, and all delicately balanced to create ideal environments.

Which means they are full of all kinds of things Zander could break.

"Zander helped me," I keep talking, hoping to use my little brother to soften things. He's currently dressed in the darkest clothes he owns, and his boots are larger than he is. "We just thought…"

"Come with me. We can sit in the office for a minute. These guys should be okay on their own," my father speaks to both Zander and me, but also the few initiates milling around, working with some of the plants. This section contains greenery I don't know, but the way the boy a few feet away carefully tends to it, tells me we shouldn't touch them. "Everyone, we'll meet up in fifteen minutes. Write down your observations so we can go over them."

I ignore the pinch of insult that my father has allotted Zander and me a whole fifteen minutes, but he is working, and the green house is an important part of the faction. Once the snow hits, the crops in the field will die, and the green houses will be our only source of food.

"Okay," I answer brightly, half dragging Zander along with one hand. He digs his heels into the ground to look at a snail crawling up the side of a wooden box, and I have to use all my strength to balance the plate of cookies and get him to come along. "Zander!"

I hiss his name, and he looks up sweetly. He smiles, smugly, knowing he can ruin all of this in a single moment.

"If you want to go swimming, you better hurry up."

To his credit, the little jerk listens.

He slips his hand back into mine, tighter, and leads me into our dad's office.

The photos that line the walls make my stomach hurt.

I look at them quickly, trying not to linger on them for too long. I don't want my perusal to be obvious, because I've seen them before, and they always evoke the same feeling.

They are printed out on a weird, plastic paper. The film is shiny where the photo part is, the color dulling slightly over time, but still bright enough to make out. There's plenty of Leif and Wesley. Paisley and Holly, playing in the woods and standing proudly next to a treehouse. There's one of Forrest from a few years ago, sitting by one of the bonfires drinking a beer. He's laughing, his face lit up by the flames and his eyes wide. I know it's old because his hair is so long it reaches his belt. There's a few of Zander, one recent where he's sitting with our dad, and one from when he's a baby.

There's a single one of me.

Taken when I could have been no older than two or three, crying as my father held me.

There are no current ones.

"What are you two doing? Giving your mother a break?"

His words bring me back to reality, and when I look at him, his smile is warm. Genuine. Happy to see us, despite my lack of presence in this part of his world.

"Kind of. She looked tired. We spent the morning baking, and then we thought we'd come see you," I answer him quickly, and I pull Zander onto the high chair next to me. The office is a mess, but it's organized chaos. There are books and prints and plans strewn all over the place, and an ancient computer used only to confirm or deny order requests. Next to the computer is a paper ledger, and the current initiation class is listed for him to score. "How are you doing? How's the class? Are they…doing well?"

My father looks at me, and he knows something is up.

Something else is up, as someone yells Mr. Carlen, and he struggles with not rushing back out there.

"They're great. I think we'll have a good group this year. Are you okay, Everly?" He takes the seat across from us, and smiles. "I know things have been strained lately. Landon told me he came by the other night and scared you. He was very upset you might be mad at him. So is Jerry."

"I'm alright. I just didn't know why he was there so late," I chew on my lip, feeling more stuck than ever.

Jerry was Landon's father. He was, hands down, the nicest man in Amity. He would do anything for anyone, which made this suck even more.

"He's working on a few projects. Nothing important, but he didn't know what time it was."

"He didn't?" This was news to me. Landon had apologized for coming by so late, but he must have told my father something else. "He told me…"

"Don't worry about him, Everly. He wasn't doing anything wrong." My father emphasizes my name, and I nod.

That was my cue to stop talking.

He believed whatever Landon told him, and whatever I said wasn't going to make a difference.

There went my Don't Make Me Marry him plan.

"I just… I don't want to marry Landon. Ever. Please don't ask me to. I know you're going to at some point, but I can't. I won't." I blurt this out to the surprise of all of us. My father's eyes widen, and Zander busies himself by eating another cookie and trying to tip his chair over.

"Everly…where is this coming from? Did he ask you to marry him?" My father looks at me in elation, and it's dulled when someone pokes their head in to ask if he's almost done.

"I'll be right there. See if you can help Damien for a minute." When he turns back to me, he looks oddly happy. "Should we be celebrating? When did he ask you?"

"No, he didn't, but…he's going to," I point out, and his face tightens. "Forget about Landon. I can deal with him myself. Dad, why are the soldiers from Dauntless here? Who are they looking for? Landon said they aren't good news and one said they were looking for you."

His expression tightens even more.

"They aren't good news," my father sighs, and the happiness is sucked right out of the room. "They came looking for me because they're searching for people who don't belong in the factions and sometimes the factionless show up here. But they don't want them. They want the people who are going against their system. I think it's a bunch of baloney, but they must have reason to be worried." He stops, and his eyes fall to Zander, then over to me. "Do me a favor. Things are strange right now. But reconsider how you're thinking and feeling in a few days. Landon is a good man. Once you're done with initiation, you'll be expected to fall in line. You'll pick somewhere to work, somewhere to live-"

"Everly!"

The voice comes from outside the office, this time frantic. I peek around Zander to see who's calling me, but I can't tell. There's a swarm of initiates milling around, and a few workers from Amity cataloging how well the plants are growing. I give up, and I turn back to my father, now standing with his arms crossed, deep in thought.

"Sorry, I thought someone was calling my name."

"It's alright. Look, I've been thinking. I've been a little hard on you. I'm working to catch up here, and your mother hasn't been…feeling well, and you've gotten the short end of the stick. There's a bonfire once it gets dark. Take the night off. I'll put Zander to bed, and you go have fun. I'm sure Sophia and Courtney are going." My dad smiles, and for a second, things feel much better. I can even pretend he's not suggesting I go because Landon might be there.

"Are you sure? Zander takes forever to go to sleep," I hesitate, only because there is a chance I could return from the bonfire to Zander still awake.

"You deserve it. We're proud of you for how hard you've been working. I was worried you'd pick-"

He gets cut off.

There's a loud crash, a bang, then the lights flicker. They try to stay on, but they eventually dim before going out completely, and someone from the outside yelps that the water has turned off.

My father glances at us, me waiting patiently and Zander covered in chocolate, and he sighs. "You two wait here. I'm sorry. Someone must have tripped the breaker."

"It's okay. We'll leave the cookies. We can go over and visit the horses so we aren't in the way." I stand up, not entirely thrilled our time was cut short. After weeks of being on his last nerve, it was unfair this happened right now. He was offering to let us stay, but the look on his face told me he felt otherwise. "We'll see you later?"

My father nods. He reaches toward me, grasping me tightly and hugging me against his chest, and I close my eyes.

He smells like home, like the forest air and the cold, twisting plants he grew, and I regret having little patience for him.

Even if he was hell bent on me marrying Landon.

The bonfire roars to life as soon as the sky darkens.

I sit crammed in between Sophia and Courtney, and the three of us have cups of overly sweet hot chocolate in our hands. We'd shown up not too long ago and found the deafening party already happening. After days of nonstop rain, the good vibes were contagious. We had been greeted by none other than Forrest, squeezing us tightly then shoving us into the crowd, and what appeared to be half of Amity. Everyone is happy, loopy as the week comes to an end, and the weekend looms with the promise of nothing.

While some would be working, most were off.

The faction liked to slow down on the days when things weren't pressingly urgent. I was looking forward to some time at home, and even more time with my dad. He'd promised we'd make something together, a sticky cake with drizzly frosting, and I readily agreed. I made a vow to be more tolerant and helpful, even as my heart sank when Zander shrieked at the top of his lungs that only I could put him to bed.

I saw my night out vanishing right before my eyes.

Luckily, my father whisked him away, throwing him over his shoulder and cheerfully announcing he would tell him his bedtime story. I'd already given him a bath, making him a beard out of bubbles and a slicked back hairdo. He liked it, announcing he was dangerous this way, and I'd even put on the darkest pajamas I could find.

He didn't take our separation well.

His tiny fists slammed into our dad's back, but his wailing finally stopped once I was dressed and ready to leave.

I was super happy I had.

All around me are people my own age.

There are plenty from Amity, knee deep in our own initiation, having a slight advantage over those who chose to come here. The initiates are a little more hesitant, sticking with their own groups and watching with wide eyes. I try to remember where each one is from. We'd learned this on the first day, but the numbers were too large to memorize everyone. I remembered a bunch came from Abnegation, and next was Candor. There are a few from Erudite who had immediately chosen to work with my father, and they delved headfirst into learning how the greenhouses worked.

There is no one from Dauntless.

I watch a few from Abnegation slowly accept drinks from the girl passing them out, and someone tends to the fire in front of them.

"We need more firewood!"

"Are you having fun? We thought for sure you'd get stuck with Zander again," Courtney elbows me, but she's watching Forrest greet more people. "He's glued to your side these days."

"He didn't take it very well when I left tonight," I answer, sighing in left over annoyance. I loved Zander, but I was longing for the day he chose someone else to be his favorite. "I don't mind him, but the minute my mother is busy, he looks for me. He wants to sleep in my bed. Have me read him his bedtime story. He wants my full attention the second he's bored. I just…I don't want to come home to being a babysitter when I am one all day."

Courtney nods sympathetically. "No one can blame you. Why isn't your mom or dad keeping him busy?"

"My dad's working. My mom is…" I pause, forcing myself to swallow down the drink. "She's being weird."

"Weirder than usual?" Sophia jokes, but it's good natured. "I'm kidding. I saw her the other day and she was pretty out of it. We came by to help her with the yard. She was telling my mom your dad has been too busy."

"I think she's been taking too much peace serum. Sometimes I think she does it so she doesn't have to listen to everyone yelling all day. Leif and Wesley and Paisley and Holly all had the last few days off because it was raining, so they were all home." I answer her, but something else has my attention. "I don't blame her. But how on Earth do you sleep through six kids being home?"

"I could," Sophia laughs, and then points into the distance. "Do either of you know who's over there? Or why they aren't joining the party?"

Courtney follows my stare to the edge of the woods, right where the soldier is standing. I can't make out who it is, but when he steps closer, I recognize the red hair.

"I'll be right back. You guys stay here."

"Everly!"

They both gasp my name, having a clear idea of where I was going, but they don't move.

They shouldn't.

Johanna had been personally visiting the homes to remind everyone to stay away from the members of Dauntless. It was unlike her to go against those meant to guard our faction, but she firmly insisted to tell them nothing, and continue on with our days.

I was doing the exact opposite.

"Hey! Jason!"

I call out his name, and he waves.

Enthusiastically.

He wasn't so scary.

He could be. I bet in certain situations he was scary, but right now, he's leaning against a tree, watching the party with great interest.

"Hey…. you. Girl from Amity," Jason answers, but he's smiling. His grin is bright, despite having been forced out into the woods to oversee a party he's not attending. "What's up?"

"What are you doing here?" I stop in front of him, noticing he's taller than I remember. His uniform is the same as the day before, but his top button is undone, and his hair is trying to escape from the ponytail it's in. "Why are you watching the bonfire?"

"We're assigned it. We came this way to check on some factionless, and they called it in. It's not a big deal, but sometimes the fires draw out the weirdos." Jason stops, then smiles even wider. "Eric's in the truck, just in case you were wondering."

"Where?" I try to downplay my interest, but I am curious where they parked. Or how no one from Amity saw them arrive. "He's here?"

"He is. And I bet he'd love to see you," Jason looks at me, and his eyes widen. "Actually, can you come with me for a minute? Maybe you can help us with something. Everyone we've seen is a little…hesitant to answer our questions. It's almost like someone told them not to."

"Johanna," I answer, laughing at the look on his face. "She said to just…go about our day and to keep to ourselves. We're not supposed to answer anything."

"Very helpful," he retorts, but he shrugs. "It won't take long, I promise. You did say you wanted to help."

He's not wrong. I glance back at Sophia and Courtney, and I hope they know I'm okay, so they won't come over here.

They do.

Neither are even looking at me. Courtney is talking to a boy named Lee and Sophia is talking to Forrest.

I turn back to Jason, and I nod my head.

"Lead the way."

He's impressive as ever, but he's unimpressed with me.

Eric throws Jason one hell of a dark look as Jason opens the truck door and cheerfully tells me to climb in. I hesitate only because I'm not sure how, and Jason politely shows me where to step. It takes some coordination to climb into the monstrous vehicle, and for one death defying moment, I wobble on the ledge as my shoe slips.

"Why is she here?"

Eric's voice is dark and flat, brimming with irritation. Our run ins from earlier are not forgotten as he narrows his eyes to sneer at my dress.

I'm not entirely insulted. The skirt is long and full, and it takes some effort to pull my feet up onto the seat and arrange the dress around me. There's a striking contrast between his uniform and my dress, and it doesn't go unnoticed.

"Hi, Eric."

"Hello." His answer is slick, warm and low.

"Jason said you had some questions I could answer," I inform him, waiting for him to smile or look a little happier to see me, but he doesn't blink.

He stares at me like he's not sure I'm real, then looks over me to Jason, balancing on the same ledge as he waves goodbye. "Out of everyone in Amity, you brought her to talk?"

"She said she'll help. Enjoy your time together!" Jason slams the truck door shut, and Eric sighs.

"Fucker." His fingers touch the steering wheel, tracing a pattern I can't see. "Why are you out in the woods?"

"I was at the bonfire," I respond, and I stare at the dashboard in front of me. "Is this your truck?"

I've never seen anything like it before. The truck is enormous. Much larger than I would have thought, and much more high tech. In front of me is a screen with a full panel of controls beneath it. Next to Eric is a tablet, still lit up from whatever he was working on, and his phone on top of it. It's warm in here, but not terribly so.

I'd been in a few of the work trucks before, but they were nothing like this.

"It belongs to the Dauntless faction," Eric grits the words out, like it's painful for him to answer such a question, and he shrugs. "Why? You want one?"

"Were you at your…initiation?" I ask him carefully, reaching out to touch one of the buttons. Eric's eyes follow my fingers, and I wonder when on Earth I became brave enough to even climb in this truck, let alone touch things I know nothing about. "Do you…work it?"

He laughs.

It's dry and dark, like my question is the dumbest thing ever.

"Hardly."

I look up at him, and his appearance is harsher than before. There's a piece of metal shoved through his eyebrow, violent and thick, and large black circles in his ears. They make his ear lobes stretched out, and above the very collar of his jacket, on his neck, are dark blocks in neat columns.

He eyes me back.

There is nothing violent about my dress. It slips to the side of my shoulder, and the sleeves are too thin for how cold it is. I like how it's fitted at the waist, but I disliked having to stand there while my mother measured everything out.

"You're really in this initiation class?" His tone is slightly less dark now, but very curious. "You're really eighteen?"

"I'll be nineteen…eventually," I meet his stare, and he smirks. "Do you drive this truck every day?"

"Sometimes. Occasionally, Jason drives." He looks away from me when his phone rings. It's loud, flashing as the name Jeanine appears.

His fingers touch the screen only to decline the call.

"Why are you guys here again?" I find a little more bravery, somewhere, and I scoot closer to him. My fingers push a button on the panel, and there's a ringing sound as it connects. Eric watches it light up, but before he can stop it, the screen comes alive with the man's face from a few days ago.

Harrison.

He glares, his stare full of rage and annoyance, and then scowls when Eric doesn't say hello.

"What the fuck are you calling me for?" He barks at Eric, clearly not in his uniform but in what must be his office, and he freezes when he sees me. He's seated at a desk, strewn with books and papers and a few sculptures, and behind him is a cork board with maps and notes. To the side, at the very top, are a few of the same type of photos, like in my dad's office. "Why the hell is she in your truck? Eric, you better have a great reason for -"

Eric pushes something, and it turns the screen off.

"Don't touch anything else, Amity. He's already in a shitty mood. I don't need to hear about it when I get back."

"Who are you looking for?" I'm closer to him now, so close I can feel how warm he is. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, declining Harrison's phone call to his cell, and I can see him debating if he's going to answer me.

He does.

Eventually.

"Divergents."

"What are…" I watch his eyes flash, but I only kind of know who they are. "Divergents? Do you mean factionless?"

"No," he looks annoyed now, and I know he doesn't want to talk about this. "Do you remember taking an aptitude test?"

"Yeah?"

"What faction did you get?" He turns to face me, angling his body slightly.

"I got Amity," I shrug as I face him, moving my skirt and my feet closer to me. "Which one did you get?"

He shakes his head, unwilling to answer me. "No."

"Okay, well, um what do Divergents get? Do they get a different answer?"

"Nothing. They go with whatever they're told, but new tests are proving they aren't completely loyal to their chosen factions. The tests measure any discrepancies in the aptitude testing. We look into the higher percentages of those individuals."

"Why?"

I'm so close I'm nearly touching him, and he looks down at me.

His profile is severe, but his eyes lessen their annoyance.

"Do a lot of people come through Amity? Do you ever see people who you know don't belong here?"

"Sometimes," my knee hits his tablet, and I glance down. His phone rings again, this time flashing a woman's name, and I read it upside down. "Is…um, is that your wife?"

"No." He quickly declines Ashley's phone call and tilts his head at me. "Far from it."

"Your girlfriend?" I watch his face tighten, and I make the decision he's not into labels. From what I knew about him, these minute interactions combined with seeing him on the projected announcements, he wasn't into talking, either. "I'm sorry, that's not really my business."

"She's not anyone. She works in Erudite," he answers tightly, somehow justifying explaining this to me, and he looks out the front windshield. "Where do the people go once they come to Amity and get what they want?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly, and I hope he knows I'm not lying. "I could try and see. We help anyone who needs help. If they want dinner or drinks or need to get out of the cold for a while…" I trail off when he looks bored. "They mostly stick by the Dome. That's where all the food is. Rarely do they come to my area."

"Which is?"

He turns, his jacket as stiff as his shoulders, and I chew on my lip as I try to think of a way to make myself sound cooler.

Announcing I worked in the daycare wasn't going to win him over, not that I should be trying.

"I um, I work with a high risk group in Amity," I declare this slickly, and he struggles not to smile. I can see him working to keep a straight face, knowing damn well there was nothing of the sort. "Okay, so for now, I work with the little kids. But it's not forever. Once I'm done with initiation, I'll…"

I stop, because I have no clue what I'll do.

"I don't know. Something better than that."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Eric looks at me, again, clearly struggling with his decision to talk to me. It's not that he can't, but like it's painful for him to express interest in another human being. If it's actual interest. He could just be casing me to make sure I'm not divergent. "That guy from the kitchen?"

"Landon?" I ask in surprise, and his eyes narrow as he catalogs the name in his brain. "No, but he'd like to be."

He snorts. He toys with his phone, and his fingers graze my knee.

I wait until he looks right at me, and I smile. "Can I ask you something?"

"No."

He answers sharply, but only because his phone rings, something is beeping in the car, and Jason appears in front of the truck, waving his arms wildly. I try to make out what he's saying, but it looks like he's yelling the word fuck over and over.

"Shit. Get out. We have to go."

Eric barks these words at me, and he throws his door open and jumps out of the truck. I freeze in place, not even knowing how to open the passenger door. He must realize this, because a second later, the door opens, and he reaches for me.

I yelp as he grabs me, right as the screen lights up and the man from before yells what sounds like gibberish. Eric grabs me by my waist, pulls me out of the truck, and I panic at the sensation of falling. Except he has me, and he sets me down in front of him, his hands firmly on my back as I find my balance.

For the third time, he looms over me, tall and handsome and slightly terrifying.

In a good way.

"Go back to the bonfire. Don't tell anyone we're here. Don't say anything. It'll cause more harm than good." He stares at me until I nod, but he doesn't let go. "Do you promise me?"

I suddenly understand why everyone said not to trust them.

"Everly?" Eric's gaze is solely on me, and the appeal of him isn't just that he's good looking.

It's that I have his undivided attention, the first person to ignore everyone else for me, and it's like he knows it. His fingers curl into my back, drawing me toward him, and in the distance, someone yells for help.

"I promise."

"It was really good to see you again," he practically hisses the words at me while he lets go, slowly, and when his fingers leave my back, the disappointment is burning hot.


	4. What's My Age Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bamberlee for editing!

"Did he kiss you?"

This time, I swat away Holly and Paisley, occupying the space where Zander normally slept. I try to shove them off the bed, but I wind up smacking myself in the face while they both snicker.

"Who?"

"That guy," Paisley's voice is loud, too loud considering I'd like my parents to stay sleeping and not coming in here and ask why she's yelling. "The…one in the ugly uniform."

"Eric!" Holly answers, just as loud and just as annoying. "Sophia stopped by this morning to drop off muffins and she said you went to talk to someone in uniform. While you were supposed to be at the bonfire."

"I was at the bonfire," I sit up, fully panicked over the thought that someone had watched me go into the woods. Someone could have, but most of my friends had been busy while I talked to Jason and they were distracted when I followed him to the truck. "I didn't talk to Eric. I talked to Jason. He said they were…um, they're looking for someone from the factionless."

"Oh."

Both Holly and Paisley deflate. They recline back, sinking onto their heels, and they throw each other defeated scowls.

"Sophia made us think it was Eric," Holly sighs, oddly defeated over this development. "Not…Jason."

"I didn't see him," I mutter, and they both look confused. "Nevermind. Did you really have to wake me up? This is the first time Zander hasn't slept in here in months."

"Mom wanted us to check on you. It's almost one," Paisley reports smugly, and she smiles widely. "I guess you were really tired."

"Shit!" I throw the covers off, and I jump out of bed.

Because of who I am as a person, I don't get very far. I trip over my own shoes, the work boots I rarely wore and had shoved half under the bed, and I nearly end my own life when I just miss hitting my head on my nightstand. My arm isn't so lucky, and neither is my side. I swear again, loudly, when Holly and Paisley burst out laughing.

I swear again a few minutes later, when I discover my father has already left for the day, heading out to work in the greenhouse, with no plans of returning before dark.

"Outside."

"No. Not you," I answer Zander meanly, and I immediately feel guilty. The look on his face is equally crushed and furious, but he settles on furious.

"EVERLY! OUTSIDE! TAKE ME WITH YOU!"

When I don't answer him, he throws his truck at me, a heavy toy a neighbor had dropped off a few weeks ago. It's large and grey, and all it's missing is Eric in the front seat, scowling.

Which is fine.

Zander is scowling enough for the both of them.

The truck sails past my head, right into the wall, and it slides down to the wood floor with a loud bang.

"Really?" I look at him with zero patience, and he looks back, daring me not to take him with me.

"Bad Everly."

Luckily for me, my mother swoops in.

"Zander, we don't throw our toys like that. You almost hit Everly in the head." She frowns at him, picking the truck up and putting it on a high shelf, and he immediately realizes the error of his ways.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"You sound tired," she tries to shush him, and his rage dulls slightly when she picks him up. He immediately puts his head down on her shoulder, proving her correct, and his plea to get outside subsides. "Everly, are you going somewhere?"

"Actually, yes," I answer slowly, hoping she's not going to ask me to take him upstairs. While he looked tired, that could change the minute he brushed his teeth. "I'm going…to meet Landon."

I do my best not to wince when I say his name, but it's not a lie.

He'd stopped by for dinner, and halfway through he whispered that he had something to show me. I thought he meant after we ate, but he told me to meet him at the Dome at ten, and not to bring Zander.

He was specific about this request, and I hated that he knew Zander was always with me.

But I'd agreed, mostly out of morbid curiosity, and figured if all else failed, I would bring Zander along and use him as my way out.

I didn't need to worry. After a day of going to the lake, feeding the horses, chasing a chicken he'd named Loco, helping everyone make dinner, a bath, and playing with his trains, Zander was tired. By nine, he was rubbing his eyes and loudly informing everyone he wasn't tired, and by nine thirty he was throwing things and demanding I take him outside.

He lost out to our mother, still holding him, as his eyes were closing.

"Oh, okay, well have fun. Don't stay out too late. It's supposed to be cold tonight." She pauses to look at me, and when I look at her, she smiles. Kind of. "That's nice you're going to meet him."

"So nice," I flash her the most innocent smile I can, and she misses my underlying and not so subtle sarcasm. "I'll be back soon. If Zander is still up, I'll help you put him to bed."

"Don't worry about that," she waves dismissively, because he's about to pass out. "Just go have fun. Tell Landon I said hello."

"I will."

I won't.

I leave before she can say much else, and I head out into the dark night, hoping to solve the mystery of where he's been going.

I regret my decision to meet him.

My mom was right; the night air is cold, and it's so cold it hurts my skin. Landon doesn't offer me his jacket or his shirt, because he's too busy dragging me through the woods. He'd been waiting for me at the Dome, and he looked pleased when I showed up. Not happy or elated, but pleased, like his plan was coming together. He then instructed me to follow him, and when I couldn't keep up, he grasped me by the arm and hurried me along.

His grip was tight.

Eric's grip had been tight, but somehow different. He'd kept me in front of him because he wanted to, but Landon was mostly pulling me along so I wouldn't slow him down.

I finally jerked my arm away from him when we reached a deep parting in the woods, and the panic set in.

"No, I can't go any further."

My stare flies around the tall trees, set on both sides of a sharp ravine. To the left, is a pathway leading into pure darkness. To the right, is a worn, dirt road used by Amity when the main roads for delivery flooded.

"It's not much farther. You promised me," Landon looks at me, his stare wild with impatience and urgency, and I can't figure out why he needed to bring me out here. My trust in him was minimal; my father thought he was a good guy, but he was off lately.

Impatient.

Angry.

Sharp with the looks he was throwing me.

Sharper with his hands, back on my arm, yanking me with him.

"Landon!" I try to move away from him, but the ground becomes too steep. I wind up holding onto him because my shoes prove impractical for traipsing through these woods, and he becomes my only source of balance. His boots crunch over the earth with a thud, and when my chest has become so tight with fear that I think I might die, he finally stops.

"We're here. I'm trying to help you."

He gestures just beyond the tree line, and I stare in total confusion.

And horror.

He's brought me to a factionless camp.

I look up at him slowly, trying not to let him know I'm freaking out, but I certainly don't want to be here. The factionless weren't bad people, until they were. Most were hungry. Unhappy with being kicked out of their own faction. Miserable because they had nowhere to go, and no one who cared if they lived or died. Their population was large, growing day by day, and often their faces blurred together until you couldn't tell them apart. There were old factionless, young factionless, and an unsettling number of children.

The ones with children, the youngest always dirty and feral and recoiling from us, came for lunch sometimes. Johanna fed them willingly, without question, and I knew it physically hurt her when they headed back into nothingness.

Not all were good, though.

There were some who were violent. Angry. Furious over being removed from their homes or failing to secure a place after their failed initiation. I couldn't imagine the agony of choosing a new life and leaving everything you knew behind, only to be banished to the outside. They couldn't return home, and they couldn't try again in another faction.

She tried to help.

Sometimes, they worked in our fields. During the hottest months, when the crops were plentiful and the workers couldn't keep up, Johanna asked for their help. She paid them however they liked; some wanted food, some wanted shelter, and some wanted to stay.

So, she let them.

Any other faction leader would be prosecuted for such an offense, but our faction needed the help. Not enough people were willing to spend their days doing manual labor, so it was rumored everyone turned a blind eye to what Johanna was doing.

Sometimes, you could tell. They might be wearing our clothes, or living in the communal housing, but they were nervous. Not even the peace serum or the knowledge of where their next meal came from was enough to erase years of being cast aside. My heart hurt for them. They were accepted here, yet they kept to themselves. A few had married girls from Amity, solidifying their place in the community, and a few of the factionless women had been taken in by farmers needing help at home. It almost always worked out, even resulting in a couple of the weddings I'd attended, but if someone dug deep enough, they'd discover they weren't actually listed here.

"Look, before you run back and tell everyone where I brought you, just listen to them. That's all I ask. If you don't agree with them, then…no big deal. They aren't hurting you and they won't hurt you," Landon whispers, and he takes my hand in his. "I told them I was bringing you, and they know who you are. Just let them share their stories."

"Landon, what is going on?" I knock his hand away from mine, and the urge to run is strong. "Why are you with the factionless? Why are you…"

I don't get to finish my sentence.

The forest comes alive right before my very eyes. There are a few makeshift lights, a few fires lit around the center, and swarms of factionless. They pour out of the woods in droves, dirty clothes and tanned skin, and they head straight for the middle. They make a circle, filling in so much space some can't enter the clearing, and they wait.

There is a low murmur, then a quiet roar as someone walks down the middle. She holds her head up high as she greets them, and she walks confidently, like she's greeting her court.

She is.

Someone says her name, and I realize not only are they planning something, something big, she is their leader.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

"Can she fight?"

The man stares me down with a dark air of disbelief. Next to me, Landon promises him I can try, leaving out the fact that I've never so much as hit anyone in my life.

I'd like to punch him, though.

"How old is she?"

"I'm eighteen," I answer for myself, finding, yet again, another person deferring to Landon over me. "Who are you? How old are you?"

He doesn't answer. The man looks right at me, but he never smiles. He eyes me up and down, like he's trying to size me up, and his dark shirt and dark pants tell me he knows how to fight.

I find him pretty unapproachable, considering he seemed important here.

"You said she wants to help?" He looks over at Landon, who's busy staring at me with a look on his face hinting I need to fall in line. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why I'd ever be aligning myself with the factionless, or this random guy who won't tell me his name. "She's too small. I can show her how to fight and I can show her how to shoot, but her odds of being an actual soldier aren't great. She can be taken down by anyone larger than her."

I'm immediately defensive, even though I don't want to be a soldier.

"Can one of you tell me what is going on? What are you training for? Why are you here?" I ask both of them, but mostly Landon. He busies himself by greeting someone next to him, and I faintly recognize him from the Dome. A healthy dose of fear hits me when I realize they're close, and this isn't the first time Landon has come here. "Please?"

"Why did your boyfriend bring you if you-"

"Hey, you said you wanted to grow the army. You said we need everyone we can. She's…her dad's Hank. He's well known in the Amity faction. I thought if we got Everly to help us, and maybe her dad, they could pull some people in. She's got a lot of friends, Hank…he works with the initiation class. They can help, too. Once he's in." Landon answers quickly, right by my side before I can announce he isn't my boyfriend and I hadn't wanted to come here. "I haven't explained everything to her. I wanted her to see it firsthand."

"See what? A bunch of factionless…forming an army?" I take a wild guess at what's going on here, and my stomach hurts so bad I might throw up. "You really think this is smart? The Dauntless soldiers will-"

"They won't do anything because they don't know about this. They think they do. They think they know what's going on, but they're wrong."

The woman from earlier interrupts me. She stops beside Landon and the guy I was talking to, and she smiles. It's supposed to be warm and kind, but it comes off arrogant and unlikable.

"I know this must look crazy but hear me out. Landon brought you here for a reason. He told us you are kind and helpful, and you never turn away those in need. We're the same, you and me. I just want to help. We're working to build an army because we want to change the system. We want to fix what's broken. And we can. We just need help. Your help."

"My help?" I stare at her, her dark hair wild and curly, and the man next to her looks similar. His brown hair is the same color, but short, recently cut, and he stares me down with an unfriendly almost glare. His eyes are blue, but they are dull, tired and impatient and not just at me.

I've watched him glance around, eyeing everyone warily, and I get the strange feeling he's not actually factionless.

His shirt is too new. The dark fabric is a fresh black, so dark it hurts my eyes, and his boots are clean.

For a dizzying second, I'd say he was from Dauntless.

But that would make no sense.

"I'm Evelyn," the woman steps close, and she takes my hands in hers. I have to crane my head to look up at her, and she smiles again. Wider. Sharper. Forcefully. "I hear you're Everly."

She says my name at the same time the night sky lights up. There's a crack of thunder, loud and rumbling and perfectly timed, and her fingers tighten so I can't let go.

"You could be who we're looking for. Landon tells me the Dauntless soldiers like you. One in particular."

She pauses. When I look over at Landon, he's unfamiliar. Less the tall, quiet boy I'd grown up with, and more like someone who fit in here. He looks strange to me, surrounded by men and women who have nothing, but something tells me he's found his place.

Which is how she knows my name.

"They don't like me. They just want information." I slide my hands away from hers, and I step back.

I don't like this Evelyn.

I don't like her or her little crony beside her, still glaring at me like he has a reason to. He crosses his arms over his chest, and his exhale is heavy.

"She's not going to help. She has no reason to. You're wrong in thinking we need a larger army. We need to train the ones we have. The more people you involve, the higher the chance of this getting out. You can keep everyone quiet for a while, but someone will slip. Eric is actively working this. He's going to question every factionless person he finds until he gets what he wants." he announces darkly, and there's a hint of authority to his tone.

He must work somewhere where people listen to him.

"He might even ask her. They've been patrolling Amity more than ever now."

"Tobias, you're letting your fear get the best of you," she chides, and her head tilts. "If she chooses not to help, Everly will keep this quiet. Because if she doesn't, she could hurt people she cares about. Not just Landon. Not just herself. Her father. Her brother. They were both here. They both want to make a difference. You could, too. If you try."

"My dad was here? Forrest?" I blurt out quickly, paralyzed in the depths of fear. She has to be wrong. I must be dreaming or have hit my head this morning. Even with the most minute details –a gathering of factionless, discussions of an army, of training and shooting and fighting, and this talk of making a difference–I know this isn't right.

My father would never stand for something like this.

He was good.

Kind.

He worked hard to contribute to Amity.

He pushed Forrest to make a difference, to help out fellow mankind without hesitation.

He wouldn't have been here, blindly following a woman creating an army that went against everything he knew.

"I um, I have to get back. I have to put Zander to bed and..." I lie, immediately regretting saying his name, but the fear is overwhelming. "I won't say anything, to anyone. I promise."

"Good. You'll have some time to think it over," Evelyn nods, and her satisfaction is too much for my liking. She knows she has the upper hand. If my father is involved, or my brother, there isn't much chance for me to pretend this isn't happening.

"Landon, I need to go home." I speak firmly, ignoring the heavy gaze of the guy named Tobias, and his judgmental stare. He watches silently as Landon takes my hand in his.

"Okay, I'll take you home. Evelyn, I'll be back. I just wanted you guys to meet her."

I hate him.

I hate him so much it burns, and I only let him hold my hand because he leads me away from them. I hold on until we're through the blur of factionless, through the thicket of trees, through the darkness. I tear it away from him once we're out of the woods, and I walk a few steps ahead, hurrying to get home.

My eyes burn, both from fear and anger.

Whatever he was getting himself into isn't good, and he knows it.

"You can't go back there, Landon! You can't. She's…what is she doing? Starting a war?" I sound frantic, and I am. My dad was good, Forrest was good, Landon was sort of good, and Evelyn was not good. "You really think this is smart? Dauntless is everywhere! The soldiers are everywhere! They've been here twice now. Every day they're showing up! They're-"

"Why do you think we're doing this? You think we want to live under their rule? You think all of us should bow to whatever they ask?"

"They aren't asking anything! Just that we live our lives and…" I pause when we near the Dome and I know he's in this too deep. "You're going back, aren't you?"

"I have nothing here. There isn't anything worth sticking around for," Landon answers hotly, and he whips around to look at me. "I know you aren't happy, either. I can see it on your face. Everyone can. You aren't fooling anyone, Everly."

"I'm happy," I protest, but it comes out like the lie it is.

"Are you? Are you really? You're enjoying watching those little kids every single day? You're enjoying babysitting your little brother because no one else wants to? Are you loving spending your days being told how good you should be? How peaceful you should feel? You don't even want to be around me, and your father promised me if I stuck around you'd-"

"What happened to you?" I step back from him, once again dragged down into a hot dose of fear. "Why are you acting like this? This isn't you. This is crazy."

"It isn't? How would you even know? You've spent the past few days doing everything you can to find a way out, and I'm offering you one. Think it over before you tell me I'm the one who's crazy. Staying here, with the way things are, is crazy."

I shut my eyes when he stops in front of me, and this time, his grip is tight enough it hurts.

"People will quickly find out you stayed here because you were afraid of picking anywhere else."

He lets go, but I keep my eyes shut until I'm sure he's gone, and the night sky opens up to a cold, slow rain.

"Are you okay?"

Forrest watches me wash the dishes for a whole two seconds before he decides to help. He gracelessly moves himself closer to the sink and reaches for one of the plates.

"Everly, what's wrong?"

I look up at my older brother, and I work hard not to blurt out why I hadn't spoken during breakfast. I actually hadn't spoken to anyone since I got home last night. I arrived back to find the house silent. I walked carefully, avoiding any creaky spots on the steps, brushed my teeth and went to bed.

I was numb.

Petrified.

I'd long heard of small rifts with the factionless. Some factions, like Candor, found them to be a disgrace to society. They turned their heads when they walked by, or like Dauntless, they would fight them off to defend their territory. Abnegation helped whenever they could, but they couldn't sustain an entire factionless population. That left us, but it was clear our helping was slowly turning into an alliance.

I wonder if Johanna knew.

"Forrest, did you go to some meeting? With a lady named Evelyn?" My hands shake, threatening to drop the dish into the sink, but I manage to hold on.

Forrest does not.

His plate crashes to the bottom, clanking loudly.

"Evelyn?" He picks up the plate quickly and inspects it to make sure it didn't break. "Yeah, yeah, okay, so you…so you know about…Evelyn because Landon took you, right?"

He's panicking.

His cheeks are red, and he stares at the sink until he knows I'm looking at him.

"Are you helping her?" I rinse off the bowl and set it on the dishrack to dry. "Landon said he had something he wanted to show me. I met him at the Dome, and he took me to this meeting and I didn't know what it was, until they asked if I knew how to fight."

Forrest blinks.

"Wow."

"Are you fighting with them? They're trying to start some…some war," I speak a little louder, but not loud enough that anyone else can hear us. My mother is in the living room with Zander, watching him climb the bookshelf while she fixes my father's shirt. "They said you and Dad were there."

Forrest blinks again, and this time, he shakes his head furiously.

"I went with Landon, once. He said it was like this, this…brotherhood thing. He kept saying, I know I can trust you. I know you want to help. So I went. I didn't agree to anything."

"Do you know how to fight?" I stare at my older brother, his long hair hanging down to his shoulders and his eyes a different version of mine, and he sighs in resignation.

"Look, okay. Here's the truth. I've been dating someone. I met her at the lake a while back, and…I thought I knew everyone in Amity. But not her. I think…I think she might have been factionless at one point. Maybe not. Maybe she just…maybe her family doesn't have as much. Anyway, it's been going really well. We ran into Landon a while ago and he invited me to go with him and said I'd get it once I was there. And, hey, I sort of understand why they're doing this. They just want things to be equal. So…yeah, yeah I know how to fight. And if someone tried to hurt Willow, I'd fight them."

"Willow?" I reach for Zander's glass, covered in peeling stickers that will never come off. "Her name is Willow?"

Forrest freezes, and Mr. Everyone Is My Friend And I Share Everything With Everyone suddenly has a secret.

A secret he didn't want to reveal.

"Yes, but don't tell mom and dad. Don't tell anyone. I want to see where it goes. Maybe I'll marry her and move out and…" he suddenly stops, and I turn toward the direction he's staring. "Zander, weren't you scaling the walls a minute ago?"

"No. I want to see Willow."

I burst out laughing, feeling marginally better for the first time all morning, because Forrest looks like he might throw up.

"TAKE ME TO WILLOW! WHERE IS WILLOW?"

"You heard him," I laugh even harder when Forrest swears, and he shoves the plate at me.

"Fuck!"

"FUCK!" Zander calls back, and he looks pleased with himself. "Take me to Willow! MOM! MOM! WILLOW! FUCK!"

"No!" Forrest roars, and he takes off, trying to catch Zander. He leaves me to finish the dishes, still laughing at his ruined secret, but it stops when I realize this still isn't good.

There's only one person who might know how to fix this, but getting to them wouldn't be easy.

"You'll have to come back."

Johanna looks at me from behind her desk, a safe distance away from me. She reaches forward to adjust some papers, and she nods her head over to the computer.

"I have a meeting in a few minutes. Dauntless has been insisting we have these…check ins. I can't miss it or they'll show up here. And we know what happens when they show up here."

She grimaces at the thought.

"This won't take long," I try my case, but even I know that's not true.

It would take long.

Explaining this whole story would take time, time neither of us have.

"Come back in a half hour. We can talk then. Unless this is pressingly urgent." She speaks evenly, still unbothered by her looming virtual meeting. "Is everything alright, Everly?"

For a split second, I contemplate answering no.

Everything was far from alright.

Landon had taken me to a secret factionless meeting. I got to see them building an army, though I didn't know this for sure. I learned Forrest had gone to one, maybe more, and now had a girlfriend he wanted to protect. I learned they thought I could help. I learned I couldn't even say anything, because not only were they involved, they claimed my father was, too.

The weight of this is immense, but I wind up not saying anything.

In front of her is a list from Dauntless, neatly typed up and spaced out, and I have a feeling I'll have to fix this from the inside out.

I close my eyes.

It's a risky move at best.

The tree trunk I'm leaning against is large and heavy, rising up from a wide base. But I'm perched on a smaller branch of the tree, enjoying the quiet and the green, and maybe eight feet below me is Zander. He looks around quickly, left and right, then at the house.

"Everly! WHERE ARE YOU!"

I don't answer him.

In my defense, we are playing hide and seek.

It was a nice distraction from the past week.

Days ago, I'd left Johanna's office feeling disheartened. I only let it last a minute, because I had to think logically. It was unlikely she'd be able to help me the way I needed. She couldn't shut down the meetings going on, nor would she ever refuse to help someone without a faction. I decided I'd talk to my brother and my dad, and once I had them on my side, we'd all talk to Landon.

It went over like a lead balloon.

Forrest retreated from me the second I asked to talk to him. He shook his head, hissed he'd only been to one, no two, maybe three meetings max, and he swore he wouldn't say a word. When I asked my dad about it, not bringing up Evelyn's name or the actual meeting but hinting that Landon was acting weird and kept bringing up something about the factionless, he less than politely told me to focus on my initiation.

Which wasn't all that easy.

Toddlers were everywhere. I caught myself in a moment of standing in the middle of a storm of small children, screaming and thrashing left and right, and I announced I needed a break. Immediately. Mable looked startled, but she sent me home an hour early, walking me out and promising me she understood.

Today was the same.

I left two hours early, telling her I hadn't really slept and I'd be better tomorrow, and she made me swear I'd go take a nap. I did. I felt a little better, until Zander found me and demanded to play hide and seek.

"EVERLYYY!"

He yells my name again, and someone laughs. They tell him to check in the backyard, and I recognize the voice as Wesley. I keep my eyes closed until I hear the front door of our house slam shut, and then, I hear him.

A different voice.

Right below me, talking to someone on his phone.

His voice is immediately recognizable. He snaps and snarls at someone, demanding they do their job or he'll be glad to find someone else who can, then scoffs when they presumably defend themselves. I watch his head drop to look at his phone, and I stare at the back of his head.

His hair is a light blonde. It's slightly darker at the top, and it's shaved so close on the sides it's nearly nothing. When he tilts his head, I can see the barest hint of the dark columns on his neck.

There, standing below me, is Eric.

"Orders are not optional here."

He barks at someone, and I wonder who works for him. I try to imagine taking orders from him or seeing him in an office every day. I don't know what their offices look like, but I imagine they are dark. I imagine he has one away from everyone else, and he doesn't let anyone visit.

"You have two hours to get this fixed…or we'll be having an entirely different discussion when I get back," he threatens, and I shift forward. The tree branch bends beneath me, and in my quest to get away from Zander, I'd failed to notice it was one of the older ones. I'd been arrogant in thinking it was safe, because my younger siblings sit on it all the time.

Now it creaks, threatening to spill me right on top of him.

"If it's not done when I get back…"

"Shit!" I swear loudly, knowing the cracking sound wasn't good. I try to grasp onto the branch above me, fumbling wildly in an attempt not to fall. Once I have hold of a stronger branch, I pull myself up so I'm kneeling, and I try to calculate how to get down without dying. The fall won't kill me; it'll be more embarrassing than anything, but there's a chance I could break my leg. "Oh fuck, no!"

The snap is so loud I'm sure the whole faction hears it.

I move quickly, figuring I can hop down the rest of the way, but I don't get very far. Eric looks up right as I lose my balance, and his eyes widen in surprise as I lose my footing completely. I hit a few branches on the way down, groaning at the scrape of one against my leg and the knot that hits my knee, and before I can blink, I hit his chest.

He catches me easily.

Our third collision is the most jarring so far. He's solid and unmoving, and he holds onto me tightly.

For a second, neither of us speak. I look up at him in pure surprise. His hold is awkward, but he shifts his arm so one is beneath both my legs and the other is under my back. I reach out before I remember he probably won't let me touch him, trying to steady myself. I throw my arms around his neck, hoping to slow my racing heart, and I can't decide if it's beating so quickly because of the fall, or because of him.

"Did you just…fall out of the tree?" He looks up curiously, into the sprawl of large branches and vibrant green leaves, and his expression is one of total disbelief. "Why were you up there?"

"I was playing hide and seek with my little brother," I answer quickly, not even sure how I was speaking to him.

Up close, this close, he was far more handsome than I could ever imagine. His eyelashes are long, his lips are full, and his skin is perfectly smooth. His hair looks different than anything I've ever seen, but everyone here has long hair. His is longer on top but combed back and kept in place so it doesn't move.

The ends flip up just the tiniest bit, and its nowhere near as uniform as I bet he prefers.

"Thank you for saving my life," I smile at him, noticing he somehow manages to hang up on whoever he was talking to. "I didn't mean to fall. I thought the branch was safe."

"Are you always this uncoordinated?" He stares right at me, his eyes dark and deep and less cold than in the truck, and he juts his chin out. "This is the third time we've met like this."

"Must be fate," I shrug, watching him smirk. I like him better when he's smiling, or sort of smiling. "Um, can I ask you something? Please?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

This question was something I just thought of. It wasn't that Eric looked years older than me, but between the dark uniform, his general presence, and his aversion to doing anything other than scowling, it was hard to guess. I was secretly hoping he was close to my age, but the amount of power and authority he wielded led me to believe he isn't.

"Why do you need to know?" He cocks his head, suspicious of my motives. "Are you taking a survey?"

"Yes. I'm trying to get the average age of every Dauntless soldier I fall into. So far, it's only you."

Eric's stare leaves me for just a second. In the distance, there are people talking. I bet it's Jason and probably Not Jason, coming to find him, here despite Johanna's meeting. Judging by his sigh, I'm right.

"Stay outta the trees, Amity. You don't seem to do so well when your feet leave the ground." He moves to put me down, but I hold onto his neck tighter. There's a silent struggle on both our parts, because he doesn't seem to want to put me down.

I know this, because it would be incredibly easy for him to simply let go of me and have me fall.

"Are you…twenty?"

My fingers touch his hair, right above the collar of his jacket. It's short, but soft, and he jerks his head away.

"Knock it off, Amity. I'm…." His lips part open for a second, hesitating to answer me, until he finally drops me to the ground with zero grace. It takes me a second to realize what's happening, but his hands stay on me until his friends arrive.

I was right. Seconds after my feet touch the ground, Jason and Not Jason spot him. They yell his name, and Not Jason loudly reminds him Harrison is waiting for them back in Dauntless and he said to quit fucking around.

"Have a…safe drive home," I try to fix my dress, smoothing out the skirt and reluctantly telling him goodbye. Despite my best efforts, I've gained no real knowledge from any of this, except that the tree was deceivingly old. "Bye Eric. Thanks for catching me."

He stands up perfectly straight when I say his name, and he turns to look at me. Something passes between us, warm and strong and undeniable, and he nods.

He takes a single step toward his friends, but looks back once more, then sighs.

His shoulders rise up, and he answers me before he walks away.

"Twenty-four."


	5. The Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bamberlee for editing!

"What's the oldest age you would date someone?"

I ask Sophia this in a conspiratorial whisper, and her head jerks toward mine.

"How old is he? Thirty? Thirty-five? Forty? Omg, is it Landon's dad? I mean, Jerry's kind of hot but uh, that might be weird at family dinners." Her stare holds both horror and admiration, and she shrugs. "But hey, they say age is nothing but a number."

"Oh my God, no! Not him!" I whisper back furiously, leaning against the wooden stall. We'd chosen to hide out here while the kids took a nap, and for once, every single one of them had fallen asleep. "No, just…I was thinking, if someone were six years older than you… would that be too much?"

She glances over at me again, out of the corner of her eye, and she reclines back. She shuts her eyes, grateful for this rare break, and shakes her head.

"Depends on the hotness of your secret lover."

I stifle down a giggle, because I had to say, Eric was sort of hot.

I'd been thinking about him for a few days now, trying to figure out what to do with the knowledge of how old he is. At first, I was surprised. I quickly counted six years between us, and I wondered if he found me way too young. Not even as someone he was interested in, just in general. But despite his aggressively cold demeanor and lack of interest in anything Amity related, he seemed pretty tolerant of me. In fact, it seemed like once he caught me, he didn't want to let go, and he had no real reason to answer when I asked his age.

"He's…really handsome." I close my own eyes, trying to remember his face.

After falling gracelessly out of the tree, I'd thought about him all night. For reasons I couldn't explain, I liked him. I didn't want him to have a girlfriend back in Dauntless, though if he did, she'd presumably be older than me, and I really didn't want him to have a wife. I liked how he looked in his uniform, and I sort of wondered what he'd look like out of it.

I had a feeling he was much larger than I imagined.

The men who worked the fields were fit, but Eric seemed invincible.

I wasn't naïve enough to think this was anything more than a stupid crush. I landed on that after landing on him, and I knew it would get me nowhere. Even if Eric proved to be the love of my life, our factions were worlds apart. His faction stalked through ours searching for people doing wrong while my faction celebrated each and every person living here. The men here were safe; no one was violent or angry, and rarely did any marriages fall apart. Eric appeared to be unfriendly, and it was assumed he preferred to handle things with his fists over his words.

According to him, he had no wife or girlfriend, and little interest in having either.

Still, I liked the distraction he brought. I often wondered what he was doing while I was working. Was he sitting at his computer, typing a memo to the factions? Was he eating lunch? Did Jason and Not Jason eat with him? Would he be horrified to see me right now, hiding out in the warmest part of a barn, nodding off while our class slept?

I didn't have any of these answers.

At least I knew his age.

"I mean, if he's hot enough, I'd say go for it. Especially since you don't want to marry Landon." Sophia comments with her eyes still shut, and I open mine. She's frowning, and her head tilts in my direction. "Actually, Landon has been weird lately. He yelled at Mable for the class moving some chairs. She was horrified. He apologized, but I've never seen him so angry. I wonder if he quit taking peace serum."

"Oh maybe. Or maybe he's just mad that…" I stop, not wanting to announce he was probably mad because I didn't want to join the factionless army with him. "That I don't want to be with him. My dad thinks I should marry him."

"Don't marry him," Sophia advises, closing her eyes again. "There's something strange going on. I have the feeling he could hurt someone. I've never felt like that before, but I do now. He might even hurt you. And he's obsessed with you."

I frown, sinking back further, and I hope she's wrong.

"Are you gonna tell me who the guy is? Omg, is it Jake? Everly! Tell me!" She nudges me with her arm, and I nudge her back.

"No, he picked Dauntless, remember? He left the first second he could."

I sound wistful, because I'd been oddly jealous when I realized one of our friends wasn't coming home. I hadn't wanted to pick Dauntless or anywhere else, but I was envious that he was brave enough to try something new.

"I don't think you know him."

"Try me," she answers dryly, snickering as someone loudly whispers for everyone to be quiet. "Okay, try me after this nap. I'm exhausted."

"Me too."

I sink into the silence of the barn, warm and quiet and hidden away from the rest of the faction, and I give in.

I'd spent too many nights staying up late thinking about Eric, desperately trying to remember every detail of his face.

Their argument is as loud as two people who shouldn't or couldn't be arguing can be.

I wake up to the thud first, the low voices second, and the louder voices third. I gently move Zander away from me, careful not to wake him as I climb out of bed, and walk slowly to the bedroom door. He'd left it open during one of his million nightly trips to get water, letting the voices drift up, right over to me.

"Will you let this go? You promised me you wouldn't bring it up again."

My mother is the one speaking, and her tone wavers between panic and tense irritation. I haven't heard her talk like this in a while, or maybe ever. She was rarely ever worked up, mostly thanks to copious amounts of peace serum, but she must not have taken it yet. I have a feeling she's talking to my father, but his response is muffled.

"Answer what they're asking and get on with your day. Now isn't the time to be unwelcoming or to make them suspicious. You agreed to this, years ago. You promised me."

It is my father.

His answer is resigned, an unhappy fine, then her name as some sort of plea, then silence. I take the stairs two at a time, keeping on the very edge so they don't make a sound, and I don't see anyone. They must have moved into the kitchen, because there's no one down here. I reach the bottom step quickly, and I nearly shriek as someone rounds the corner and heads straight for me.

"Hello."

It's none other than Harrison. He stands before me with one hand up in surrender, in the entryway to our living room. He must have come from the kitchen, privy to witnessing whatever disagreement my parents were having, because he looks mildly stressed.

Unlike Eric, his posture is visibly tense, though he shakes it off.

"Hi."

I freeze on the bottom stairstep, unable to move, or do anything really.

He's tall.

Tall and dressed in the same uniform Eric had on last week. His hair is more combed than I saw him in person, but less combed than when I saw him on the screen in the truck. He has the same boots on, the same heavy jacket with the dark stripes, and the same gun they all carry. I hadn't really noticed it on Eric or Jason or Not Jason, but it's more apparent on him.

"I didn't mean to scare you. They uh, needed a moment." He speaks slowly, staring so intently it's like he knows me. He doesn't. In fact, he's out of place here, the uniform jarring against the red wood of our home and the numerous plants and books, but he's not completely uncomfortable.

Not like some of the soldiers.

He is uneasy because he'd witnessed an argument, an act which was practically illegal here.

"What are you doing?" I take the final step off the stairs, and he shrugs nonchalantly. "Are you…is Eric here?"

It takes him a second, but Harrison smiles in the slightest. He's not at all scary, even though I'd seen him yell at Eric and he was currently armed. I'd even say he reminds me of Zander. He gives off the air of being sort of mischievous, only halfway interested in what's going on, and longing for something more thrilling than visiting Amity.

Jason had said he didn't like coming here, so he must have drawn the short straw for who got to visit.

"He's in Erudite today. Were you expecting him?"

I shake my head no, ignoring the pang of disappointment, because really, where Eric is is not my business.

"Why are you here?" I stay a few feet away from him, but I want to step closer.

I'm not sure why.

He should be intimidating. All of them should be. There was an unspoken authority they all carried, and we were supposed to honor it. They were looking out for us. Protecting our factions. Risking their own lives to be here, so we stayed safe.

But we all knew they were dangerous. Their authority gave them a broad range of leeway. They could come and go as they pleased, arrest whoever they liked, and their word was stronger than ours in the event it made it to Candor. There was a good chance if you pissed one of them off, they'd hurt you.

Any way they could.

Harrison doesn't look like he'd hurt me, but I was quickly learning I couldn't trust the people I once thought I could.

"We're here to talk to your…to Carlen. We believe he might have unknowingly helped out some of the people we're looking for." Harrison glances around the house, his stare lingering on the bookshelf and stopping when it reaches the hallway that leads to my parent's bedroom, and he frowns. "Nothing to be scared of."

"I'm not scared," I respond quickly, hoping he doesn't think I am.

Just like with Eric, it seems important he know this.

"You don't seem to be afraid of much," he observes, and for a second, I feel like I've been caught red handed. "You're pretty brave for someone who lives in Amity."

"Because I sat in the truck?"

My answer is bold, considering he could take me along with him for confirming I had been in Eric's truck. I'm sure they had some rule about letting people into their vehicles, especially ones from Amity who weren't supposed to be touching the buttons. At the very least, my presence was a distraction while he was assigned to work here.

"Well, that and not too many people want to get close to Coulter." He stares for a second longer, but his gaze softens. "You certainly weren't afraid of him."

"I'm not," I inform him, wondering if this will get back to Eric. I mentally note his last name is Coulter, though what I could do with this information is lost on me. "I told him I'd help him if he needed it, but he didn't seem to want my help."

"I'm sure he wants something," Harrison turns when my mother comes back into the living room, and we both look surprised when she blinks. Her eyes are wet, and her shoulders slump down. "Eden?"

"He's outside. He said he'll talk with you there."

Her voice is strained, pulled so painfully thin I expect it to snap. She pulls her arms in closer, making herself practically invisible.

"He's waiting, Harrison."

When she says his name, something shifts.

The air turns tense, tenser than the tiny argument that woke me up, and wiry enough that I feel compelled to head back upstairs.

"Eden…"

"Harrison."

I take off.

I leave them standing there alone, murmuring something I desperately want to overhear but I know better than to try and eavesdrop. It's not my business, but I have the sticky feeling my mother is in trouble.

Or knows this man in our living room, sent to speak to my father.

Forrest confirms this when he nods at me walking up the stairs.

"Is that Harrison?" He leans against the bannister casually, rising up to try and peer downstairs. He can't see much, so he grunts in annoyance and frowns. "I heard him talking. Shit, I can't see anything."

"How did you know it was him?" I creep closer, wanting to know how Forrest could guess which soldier was here. "Do you know him?"

"Do I know him?" Forrest mocks, and his hair hangs down, loose and wet. "Duh. I could hear him."

"He wasn't even talking that loud," I point out, and I join him from his lookout. I rise up on my toes to get a better vantage point, and all I catch is the quickest glimpse of the black fabric. "But yes, it's him. He's here to talk to dad."

"That'll go over well." Forrest's remark is loud enough that Harrison looks up, and we both freeze. He tilts his head, but his eyes stay on us, looking down at him, and there's a moment of something I wish I understood. His gaze isn't unfriendly or annoyed, but sort of wistful or hopeful.

I wonder if he has kids.

"What are you looking at?" My mother says this sharply, and Forrest and I immediately jump back.

"Shit, go!"

"What are you two doing? Forrest, you aren't supposed to swear," Wesley yells, and he leans against the doorframe of his bedroom. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

We both answer at the same time, in silent understanding that we needed to keep this quiet so no one panicked. Things had been weird, but a Dauntless soldier in our living room, asking to speak to our father, was certainly the worst thing imaginable.

"Seriously, nothing. Go back to bed."

"Okay, well why are you swearing then?" Wesley yawns, and his hair falls in his eyes. "Mom is going to be mad. Is someone here?"

"Oh barnacles, sorry. I hope I didn't offend your innocent little ears," Forrest leaves his post, sauntering by and smacking Wesley in the head. "Go back to bed. No one's here. She's helping dad with something."

"Is that true Everly?" Wesley looks over at me, and I look at Forrest. He nods several times, and his stare is pointed.

When I stay quiet, he jerks his head, silently telling me to back him up.

"Yeah, they said they'll be done soon. You can go back to sleep if you want. Sorry we woke you up," I answer with as much conviction as I can, and Forrest nods again.

He salutes me, then heads down the hallway toward his own room.

"You two are weird." Wesley rolls his eyes, but he retreats back into his room and slams the door shut.

I stay there for just a minute, unable to get Forrest's words out of my mind.

They bother me.

He rarely, and I mean rarely, lied.

Forrest liked to tell the truth, no matter how brutal it was. He felt like it helped keep him honest, though he learned that sometimes there were better ways of delivering the blow so everyone didn't hate him. There was something about the way he casually announced our mother was helping dad with something, when she very clearly wasn't, that bugged me.

Our father was outside, waiting for Harrison.

Our mother was inside with Harrison.

Not my father.

Or maybe Forrest meant she was helping our father by talking to Harrison.

I don't think about this very long.

I decide to peek back over the bannister, and when I do, I catch a glimpse of my mother, very unwillingly sliding her hands away from Harrison's, and her expression is one of total despair.

The next few days pass by slowly.

I am sucked down to a level of sheer agony I never knew existed. I spend my mornings surrounded by total terrors. The sudden turn to cold mornings makes them wild, wilder than one would imagine, and insatiable for fresh air and lukewarm sunshine. Mable tries to keep everyone happy, but there's a lot of grumbling for jackets and mittens, children showing up in unnecessary snow boots, and one bunny smuggled in for show and tell that leaves my head hurting.

I spend my evenings with Zander, building a tower so tall Forrest has to finish the top, and watching my parents.

I try to pass off my observation as casual, but Forrest notices immediately.

"Is there a reason you're like, one foot away from them? Are you afraid they're going to disappear?"

He kicked me while we ate dinner, and I glared in response.

So far, things were continuing to be tensely awkward. Still in their odd disagreement over something, my mother had thrown herself into cooking everything she could find. Forrest, Wesley, and Leif were in their glory. Zander demanded toast and only toast. I ate some salad and noodles and soup. Paisley and Holly ate their normal amount but looked confused as to why there was so much food.

My father looked annoyed.

It was becoming more and more noticeable. His mood changed the minute he got home. He'd hug whoever was near him hello, kiss my mother's head, then his shoulders would rise up and he'd be quiet for the evening. My mother was even more quiet.

This left us with Zander, chattering away about every single thing he'd ever seen.

By the time he got to the cloud he swore was shaped like a bat fighting a frog, I was falling asleep out of sheer boredom.

It continued all week.

One morning, I came downstairs to them talking, civilly, and I assumed their argument was over. It was pretty much impossible to fight when you were taking peace serum. Anger and resentment seemed to dissolve away once you downed it, or so I'd been told.

My mother was seemingly not taking any.

It was almost as though she liked being mad, and the feeling was so vibrant she wasn't willing to give it up.

By the time I pulled my cereal down from the pantry, she wordlessly handed my father his lunch, and turned to start making Zander pancakes.

They didn't speak at all that night.

Even now, they sit apart on the couch. My father keeps looking over at her, dutifully mending something on his work shirt and still not speaking, but she never looks at him. At least not that he sees. She does look over once, her eyes taking him in slowly, and she immediately looks back down and her hands shake.

She doesn't say a word.

The next morning, things are back to normal when she greets me, warm and happy and loopy, higher than ever on a serum meant to make everything feel good again. She hugs me goodbye, longer than necessary, and I nearly break my neck when I trip over Zander's knocked over tower.

It had sat here all week. But now the pieces are everywhere, even in the furthest corners of the room, like someone kicked them there in a fit of rage.

"You're sure you don't want to go?"

My mother's expression is hopeful, but I'd rather die than attend another bonfire this week.

To offset the stress of the soldiers being here, Johanna was hosting nightly activities. Every night had been a bonfire. A scavenger hunt. Storytelling. Star gazing. A night of games, which had been entertaining to watch but less fun to participate in. Tonight's activity was a bonfire with a band playing, and there was nothing in the world I'd rather not attend than a concert hosted by my brother.

Plus, there was the odd chance I'd run into Landon, after successfully avoiding him all week.

"I'm really tired. I was thinking I'd take a shower and go to bed. Is Zander staying home?" I hope she doesn't ask to leave Zander with me. There was nothing he loved more than being outside, potentially being in danger, or being outside at night, while it was dangerous. He lived to wander near the edge of the woods, he thrived when the sky darkened and it made his games of hide and seek harder, and he excelled at standing way too close to the fire and throwing things in it.

If she left him here, I'd never hear the end of him whining to go.

"No, your father is getting him dressed right now. There's no way he's staying behind," she answers me quietly, examining my leg while she sits on my bed. "What happened to your knee?"

"I hit it on a tree branch," I look up at her, upside down, from where I had been reading a book. It was one I'd found crammed on the bookshelf, shoved way in the back, and it was mildly entertaining. "I fell out of a tree."

"When?" My mother frowns, shoving my skirt out of the way to look at the bruise. "Everly, that looks painful! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I just…slipped when the branch started to break." I leave out the part where I fell from the tree, right into Eric. I'd been trying to forget about him, actually. Despite his sudden appearance in my life, I hadn't seen him here in a week. Harrison was the last soldier I saw who I sort of knew. The rest were nameless, silently marching down the dirt path, and occasionally stopping to talk to one of the workers. "It'll go away soon."

I'm not just talking about the bruise, either.

It seemed that Eric had chosen to disappear from my life just as quickly as he'd arrived, and I had no choice but to accept this.

"How did you fall out of a tree?" My mother sounds suspicious, and she should be.

I didn't exactly spend my free time scaling them.

"I was playing hide and seek with Zander. I guess my hiding spot was too good and I fell getting down," I play this off casually, though her expression tells me she's not entirely convinced. "What um, what happened with…that guy who was here?"

"What guy?" She looks at me, and her peace serum has worn off for the day. I can tell, because her eyes are bright.

"Harrison," I say his name firmly, and she blinks. It's more of a wince, but she does her best to pretend his name doesn't evoke a reaction from her. "The one who was in our living room."

"He was here to ask a few questions. Nothing really." Her answer is firm, but it's not convincing to either of us. "Why? Did he say something to you?"

"He just said hello," I offer, and her fingers touch the bruise on my knee. "Okay, that hurts."

"I'll get you something for it," she answers, but she's distracted. I regret bringing him up, because her gaze is now far away, and I dislike how she stiffens. "They're looking for someone and they thought this person had maybe come through here. Or was hanging around the greenhouse. That's all."

I notice she's very careful not to say he was looking for my father, so I don't bring it up.

"Well, have fun at the bonfire. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed."

My mother smiles, but it's not at me.

She's suddenly off in la la land, lost in some dream world, without any help at all from the peace serum.

The silence is more than welcome.

I relish it, brushing out my damp hair and lounging around in a nightgown meant for someone twice as tall. Once I'm sure I won't wake up to matted hair, I recline back on the couch in the living room and look around.

Everyone had left an hour ago.

Once they did, I took a shower, combed my hair, and figured I'd read the book I'd found. Our bookshelf was always crammed with stories to read, but rarely did any interest me. They were mostly traded or gifted from our neighbors, and they ranged from boring –agriculture and farming references, to soppy love stories or fairytales meant for younger children.

I'd found this one hidden in the furthest corner, shoved in place beside a worn leather notebook. I'd picked out the notebook as well, figuring there might be something interesting in it. I took them both with me, carefully added more firewood, and figured I had at least another two hours before anyone was back. The bonfires were running late, and the addition of a band playing music would push them well into the evening.

I feel a flash of guilt at not going, since I could have seen Sophia and Courtney, but the alone time is worth it.

I get about ten pages into the book before my attention wanders. It's not the story, but my mind keeps reminding me there's a notebook beside me, and it might be more interesting to read.

So I do.

I toss my book to the side, and I open up the leather notebook like it might bite me.

It's a huge mistake.

I pull my feet beneath me, completely sucked into whoever wrote the book, because it's a journal. The handwriting isn't familiar, nor is it anyone I know. It's clearly a man's, the letters sloppy and blocky, and the words are not elegant.

But in some way, they are.

They are heartfelt in an unsuspecting manner; they detail a chance meeting in the woods by a river, two people who cannot be together in any way, and a desperation to make it happen. I take in page after page of these meetings, sometimes planned, sometimes on accident, and my chest hurts when their plans crumble with each passing day. It's clear these two are meant to be together, but something is keeping them apart. It doesn't say what, so I can't be sure it was written any time recently, but it hints that what they feel simply can't happen.

The last page of the first section describes seeing light in the darkness, and I'm so absorbed into this, I nearly fall off the couch when someone knocks on the door.

"Shit!" I toss the journal to the side, and I sit there, frozen in place at the thought of being murdered.

It had to be Landon.

There was no one here. No one next door. Our closest neighbor was a good distance away, and even they were at the bonfire. It was at least a ten minute walk to get there, and if someone was here to murder me, I wouldn't be able to alert anyone.

They wouldn't even make it back in time.

I walk to the door slowly, and I take a chance it's our sweet old neighbor, the one who always lost her pet squirrel or came by to drop off blueberry pies.

"Hello?" I open the heavy door without looking, and there he is.

Eric Coulter.

Standing on our porch, dressed like he's come for war.

"Oh, hi." I greet him dumbly, still not sure it's really him.

Any eloquence I might have had is gone. I look up at his face, his expression smirky and smug, and he looks at me. His eyes take in the nightgown with a hint of disapproval, right down to how long it is. He then glances into the living room, and when he's satisfied no one is there, he looks back down at me.

"Hello."

He steps inside before I can ask him if he wants to come in, because it's assumed he does. He walks heavily, his boots thudding on the floor, his uniform crisp and pristine, and his hair has been cut again. It's shorter than before, except for the top.

"What are you doing here?" I shut the door behind him, feeling a sense of total finality now that he's inside. After a second, I lock the door, figuring this would buy me at least another minute if someone were to come home. "Are you here to see my father?"

"No." Eric answers dismissively. He looks around, mild curiosity all over his face, and his stare stops on the fireplace. "Are you alone?"

"Yeah, my family went to this bonfire down by the lake." I watch him examine everything in our house. I can't figure out why he's looking so intently, but after a week of not seeing him, his appearance is jarring. I'm reminded of who he is, and where he lives.

"You didn't want to go? Isn't that right up your alley?" Eric asks, and he clenches his jaw down when I don't answer him. I don't want to, because his assumption is right. It should be right up my alley. Everyone from Amity loved the bonfires, especially when there was a party. "No?"

"I didn't want to go. I was reading a book," I answer him in a tone far more defensive than is appropriate, but he seems to like my response. "It was quiet here and I wanted to stay. I can go to a bonfire any night."

"You stayed here to read a book? What book?"

He's looking at me curiously, but his stare is sharp.

I feel like he's making a list.

A list of reasons why Everly doesn't belong in Amity, and announcing I'd skipped one of our big parties to stay home and read was just another one for him to add.

"It's about a wizard. A boy who finds out he's a wizard. Have you read it?" I watch his face darken for a second, like he thought I was over here reading about brain surgery. "It's pretty interesting."

"No, I haven't." Eric answers flatly, and he pauses to check his phone. He looks at it irritably, swiping and tapping the screen and firing off a rapid response to whoever was demanding his attention. When he finally looks up, his expression is bored. "We were called to this area an hour ago. I'm here to ask if you've seen anyone unusual around. Other than the regular members of Amity."

"Funny," I try to keep a straight face, but I'm sure compared to his dangerous life in Dauntless, everyone here was unusual. "I haven't. I've been busy working."

"With the high-risk members?"

Eric raises his eyebrow at me and for half a second, my heart stops beating.

He's teasing me.

His tone is almost flirty if I listen hard enough, and his lips dare to smirk.

"You can come meet them. They show up every morning at nine. If you're brave enough…" I stop when he comes to a halt in front of me. He takes up all the free space, and his presence is larger than life. I have to look up at him to see his face, and he has to look down at me.

He reminds me of Harrison.

Both his presence and the look he's throwing me.

"I've been thinking about something, and I just can't figure it out."

"What is it?" I stare up at him, and he smiles.

In wide, sweet, faux innocence.

"You're awfully brave for someone who lives here. Are you sure you picked the right faction?" His words are slick, and there's a wave of horror at him thinking I wasn't supposed to be here. He waits patiently for my answer, and his stare never leaves mine.

"I'm not…I'm not that brave," I respond, but he has a point.

No one else in Amity would have gotten in the truck with him.

Sophia would have cried and Courtney would have fled into the woods, hoping they didn't catch her and kill her for refusing to answer them.

"Are you sure you haven't seen anyone? Or gone anywhere? Your answer could be helpful," he hints, stepping closer. He's so close he's nearly touching me, and he smells good. Really good. "You said you wanted to help me. Here's your chance."

For a single second, I contemplate telling him where Landon had taken me. It's on the tip of my tongue –the woman named Evelyn, her odd partner, the factionless milling around, the rumors of starting an army –but I can't. If I tell him this, there was a good chance he'd go after Forrest. My father. Landon, even though he was up to no good and probably deserved what was coming.

I couldn't turn in my own father.

Or my brother.

I debate giving him Landon's name, and the struggle must be all over my face.

"Everly," Eric says my name, and his fingers reach out. I wait for them to find my skin, because his eyes have moved from my face to my shoulder, to the white fabric and the sheer ruffles someone had dutifully sewn on the strap, but they don't.

He touches my hair, grasping a lone piece between his fingers and twirling it around.

"You can trust me," he lies, softly.

I shake my head.

I can't trust him.

He's here looking for people to drag back to his lair and announcing I had been taken to a meeting would only accelerate his hunt. I would be handing him who he's looking for, but a few he isn't. My brother could be a casualty, and so could my father.

Neither meant any harm.

"I haven't seen anyone," I lie right back, just as quietly.

He knows.

His eyes flash with impatience, but he recovers quickly.

"I know you don't trust me," Eric admits, and his fingers move up higher. "You shouldn't."

"I know," I don't move, instead I watch him. He's distracted by my hair, mostly dry and hanging in long wavy sections in front of my shoulder. He moves his hand up higher, nearing my collarbone, following the dark path toward my ear. "Everyone keeps telling me that."

"They're not wrong," his fingers touch my collarbone. They graze there for a moment, lightly, then move up my neck. He touches my jaw, tracing the curve to the juncture, then he slides his fingers into my hair.

He could kill me.

He could snap my neck to the side, and no one would ever know it was him.

I must look terrified, because his expression changes to surprise, and he pulls away. His hand stays there, curling slightly to hold on, then he leans back toward me.

His normal stoic sneer is gone, and I'd dare say he looks put out. Mild insult radiates from him, like he didn't want me to have a certain impression of him.

"I won't hurt you. That's not why I'm here. I wouldn't…."

"You just said not to trust you," I point out, and he swallows thickly. His eyes lock on mine, light and dark at the same time, and he nods. "How do I know you're not lying?"

He contemplates this. He thinks it over while he chews on the side of his cheek, trying to think of a way to prove he won't kill me. I'm mildly flattered that he's even trying, because really, I'm no one to him. Just some random girl in Amity he keeps running into, with absolutely nothing to offer him except the very people he's looking for.

"We could meet for lunch," I think of this brilliant idea out of nowhere, and he scoffs.

He leans back slightly to really look at me.

"You want me to meet you for lunch? Then you'll trust me?"

"I can make you something," I think fast, not even close to knowing what he ate. "We could meet in the woods, by the river. There's a clearing where people fish sometimes. It's empty now because it's getting cold."

"You want me, to come here, and eat lunch with you?" He repeats himself; his words should be insulting, but he's saying them like he needs to hear them out loud to understand them. "And then you'll trust me? Then you'll tell me what I want to hear?"

"No one is there. It's too cold to be out that way. I could leave right at twelve. That's when we take the kids to lunch," I answer quickly, not listening to him and not sure why I was even hoping he'd say yes.

Because I was.

I was desperately hoping he'd agree, because it would be something to look forward to. I would see him again, we could eat lunch together, and by then, I'd hopefully have figured out a way to tell him where I'd been without admitting I'd been there.

Or that my father and brother could be involved.

"Twelve?" he mutters, still distracted. His fingers stay in my hair, lazily touching the long strands, and the spell is broken when his phone rings.

It's shrill and sharp, and it echoes in the quiet house.

He ignores it.

For a moment.

"I have to get back. They must have found someone," he says, slowly sliding his hand away. "No one knows about this but you and me. Got it, Amity?"

I nod, defeated that this chance meeting is ending because someone is calling him, but I know he has work to do.

So does he.

He steps away reluctantly, and heads for the door. Eric glances around once more, doing his best to quickly memorize the surroundings before it becomes too noticeable. Once he's satisfied, he unlocks the front door and throws it open, but he doesn't make it all the way through.

He looks back at me, his smirk fully in place, and he hesitates for a single second.

"Don't be late."

It's not a goodbye.

It's not even spoken nicely or warmly. It's more of a threat than anything, but I smile widely.

The door shuts with a thud, and I walk over to secure it. My fingers linger on the lock, heavy and cold, and I find myself smiling.

Stupidly.

This whole situation is dangerous. So risky that I could potentially wind up in major trouble, but it's left me dizzied in a way I've never felt before.

I am determined to see him again, even if it means risking everything.


	6. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bamberlee for editing!

"Did you think about it?"

Landon hovers near me, tucking his hair behind one ear and trying to appear casual. I haven't seen him since he took me to the factionless meeting, and this is fine by me. I didn't want to see him, nor did I have anything to say to him. In fact, I was still struggling to figure out how I could explain what I saw to someone who could help, without getting my brother and father in trouble.

But not Landon.

I'd decided if Landon wanted to mess around with the factionless, that was on him.

"Think about what? Come wash your hands, Holden." I pause corralling small children to the row of sinks, and I face Landon only because I have to. "Did I think about joining a factionless army? I did. I've decided to pass but thank you for the offer."

My sarcasm isn't lost on him.

He recoils, his annoyance as clear as day, to shake his head. "You're making a mistake, Everly."

"I'll do whatever I can to help anyone who needs it, but I'm not helping that…woman." I don't know what to call her. Saying her name made her real, and her being real was a threat to my family. "I want you to tell my dad and brother to stay away. Uninvite them to your…whatever it is."

"It's an opportunity," he informs me, and I step away, nearly knocking Holden over. "You can't even see what you're-"

"I can see that you believe whatever they're telling you. You and I both know it won't go anywhere. Dauntless has been looking for people, and my guess is once they catch wind of this, they're gonna be looking for her, too." I help Holden dry his hands, and I shake my head furiously, wondering if maybe, just maybe, I could tell Eric and he wouldn't go after my dad. "Leave me alone. Leave my family alone. And maybe leave Evelyn alone, too."

Landon's hands ball into fists, and he heads for me. His whole demeanor is threatening, and Sophia's words pop right back up.

_I have the feeling he could hurt someone. He might even you._

"Everly, hey, are you okay?"

As if she can read my mind, she appears just as he's close enough to grab me. I silently thank her over and over, but she knows something is wrong. When I shake my head no, she juts her chin out and eyes Landon warily, and her dismissal is quick.

"Landon, aren't you supposed to be in the kitchens?" Sophia, the least brave person in this faction stares him down with all she has. She makes herself as tall as she can, then moves closer to me and instructs Holden to go join the class. "Mable said we're heading there soon. The kids are hungry, so I hope their lunch is ready."

She throws Landon a pointed glance, and I hope he leaves.

He doesn't.

"It's ready. And Everly is fine. She's just making another stupid decision in her quest to ruin her life." Landon has the audacity to smile meanly, knowing no one has heard him. "Ask her how she really feels about Amity. Or if she's enjoying her initiation. Maybe someone should tell Mable that Everly isn't really loving working with the kids or hanging out in the barn. She'd rather be drooling over-"

He doesn't finish.

I punch him in the face.

It comes out of nowhere, the urge so overwhelming I can't control it, and it hurts. There's a sharp snap as my knuckles hit his nose, and his howl is immediate.

"SHIT!"

He and I both swear, but I don't panic.

While I could have just landed myself in hot water, it was unlikely he'd run off to announce I'd attacked him.

Or why.

"Don't ever threaten me again," I announce, and next to me, Sophia stares with wide eyes. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, but she doesn't leave my side. "Never again, Landon."

"You just made the biggest mistake, ever." Landon groans, wiping his face with the back of his hand. There's no blood, since I didn't hit him hard enough, but I know his pride is wounded. He glances over at Sophia to back him up, for violence was ten thousand percent forbidden here, but she makes no move to help him. "Both of you."

"Get out of here."

Sophia points at the doorway and waits for him to leave. He takes off, slowly, his stare on me and his gaze so sharp I can feel it on my skin, but he finally leaves. The door slams with a loud thud, and my heart sinks as Mable wanders by, cheerfully asking if we're okay.

I don't know if she saw anything, but her zoned out look tells me she didn't.

"Shit."

"Oh my gosh, Everly!" Sophia blinks and she glances around furiously. "Don't tell anyone. Just...we'll handle him next time."

"Okay," I agree, because while I might have finally gotten him to realize I didn't love him, I'd gotten myself into a world of trouble.

I'm right.

Landon corners me on the walk to lunch, sweetly telling Mable he needs to talk to me.

She believes him, having no real reason not to, and he smiles.

Darkly.

"I have a message for you," he announces, taking hold of my arm and pulling me away from the class. There's a scuffle as I trip getting out of the line I'm in. Holden's head whips around to look for me, and his eyes are wide with worry.

"I'll be right back! Get an extra cookie for me, okay?" I try my best to distract him, and it works. Holden nods, then falls back in line with his friend Cody and they resume hopping down the dirt path. "What do you want Landon? I know you don't have a message for me."

I hope Mable overhears what I'm saying, but she's too far up ahead. She cheerfully instructs someone to hold the doors open and tells them they're a wonderful line leader of the day.

Landon is patient. He waits until the class is almost all inside before he shoves me forward, right toward the kitchen doors. They are shut; the lunch rush has already started, and the kids inside will keep the staff busy for the next hour, followed by the workers from the fields right after.

"Landon, what is wrong with you?"

I turn around to face him, and he takes hold of my arm again.

This time, the panic is immediate. He's much larger than I am, and I'm trapped between the wall and him, with nowhere to run. He's large enough that anyone walking by would think he's pinned me here to kiss me hello, and strong enough that I can't get away.

"Landon, you're scaring me. What is going on?"

"Why aren't you listening to me? Do you know what's going to happen when she takes over?" His face is inches from mine, and his grip on my wrist turns painful. I try to wiggle away, but he holds on tighter, twisting to keep me quiet. "She's going to help those who help her. You don't want to be on the wrong side of this. You already are. I know your family is falling apart. I saw your mom this morning. Right after you punched me in the face."

Shit.

Of course, he ran to her.

She oversaw a small infirmary, no larger than a few rooms really meant for women to give birth in, a tiny area for the treatment of minor injuries, and a smaller area set up with herbs and oils and all kinds of things one might need. She often brought Zander with her, but she preferred not to.

I hope he wasn't there today.

"I didn't tell her it was you," Landon talks quickly, and he's so close that he's almost touching me. "Look, Everly, I just need you to trust me. Come to the next meeting. Forrest will be there and I'll show you what Evelyn wants."

"No," I shake my head, and I manage to wrench my arm away from him. There's an imprint from his hand, the skin raw and red, and I wince when it stings. "I told you to leave me alone. Next time you come near me, I'll…I'll…"

"You'll what? You won't do anything. Because you're stuck here, and you know it. You picked Amity, and you only have so long to prove to everyone why you should be here. Don't think I can't fuck up your initiation if I need to. Then you'll really need me."

These words are hissed with an unparalleled hatred I don't ever remember him having. He moves away from me, and throws me one dark, threatening sneer.

"Pick your side, Everly. You don't have much longer."

I don't get the chance to say anything. Landon takes off around the Dome. He shoves his hands in his pockets, glances left and right, and is gone before anyone can notice what's happened.

I stand there frozen in place, my wrist aching with the ghost of his grip, and I realize I'm royally screwed in more ways than one.

"You're late."

He barks the words at me, looking entirely uncomfortable. It's an unusual look given who he is, but I understand why. We're in the middle of the woods, right off a clearing that led to a lake, and it was a little too open for him.

I could tell.

Eric kept looking around, like he expected someone to pop out of the bushes and catch him red handed. I was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to be here, even if he was working.

"Sorry, I couldn't leave on time. I had a small issue." I struggle to keep up with him, walking over to his truck. He's parked far enough away that he can leave if he needs to, and nowhere near the road. "I um, I had an altercation and…"

"An altercation in Amity? What did you do? Punch someone in the face?" He turns to look at me, and he yanks the basket out of my arms. It was heavy and awkward, but Sophia had packed it for me. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what Eric would eat. She helped me come up with a menu that sounded reasonable, and I went with it. "Well?"

"Actually, yes…" I trail off, catching his look of total surprise. It's gone as quickly as it's there, and he shakes his head, and points in the distance. I take it he wants me to follow him, so I do.

Eric is silent as he leads me to the truck, and in an odd act of faint chivalry, he opens the door. "Get in. We can't eat here. I can turn the cameras off around this area, but not for long. Someone will get suspicious. We're driving out to the border where there aren't any."

I look up at him, both surprised and unsurprised, that he's thought this through. This makes me smile, because it meant he'd considered coming, decided he was coming, then made a plan.

It's also a nice distraction from Landon's threat.

"Okay, that's fine, I just have to-"

He picks me up before I can finish telling him I have to be back by two. Mable had excused me for a few hours. I told her I had been asked to bring some of the soldiers lunch, not a total lie, and she immediately agreed. She told me not to worry about missing the hour after lunch, that they were painting flowers on the side of the barn and she had enough hands to oversee the class. I was grateful, but now I'm thrown off as he practically shoves me into the truck.

"Get in. I don't have much time."

Eric takes a single second to make sure I'm sitting down before he slams the door shut. He storms around the front of the truck, looking left and right, and climbs in. He pushes the basket over to me, and I place it on my lap while he takes off.

Sitting in the truck with him the first time had been an experience but driving in it is something else entirely. He drives faster than I'd expect, and the truck moves violently. It crushes over everything in its path, and the view is much higher than our work trucks. I try to take it all in, but I watch Eric, too. He drives back onto the main road, paying little attention to the scenery flying by, and less attention to the alerts coming.

There are plenty.

His phone rings several times. When he doesn't answer, it vibrates. I catch a few names as they desperately try to contact him, refusing to give up when he doesn't answer. Jason. Someone who is not Jason. Max, calling three times. Jeremy. Lauren. And finally, Ashley. Her name pops up twice, and the hint of a message appears on the screen. I catch the words where the fuck are you before he powers it off completely. He's silent, but his fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

My chest tightens, too, wondering if Ashley was someone who knew him way better than I did.

Still, he'd come to lunch, and that spoke volumes considering he clearly wasn't supposed to be here.

"How's your day going?" I figure I might as well talk to him, and I shift in the seat to look at him.

He glances at me out of the corner of his eye, then moves his stare back to the road and exhales sharply.

"It's going great." His answer is thick with sarcasm, and he shrugs. "I blew off a meeting with Erudite to come here. I'm supposed to be explaining why we have a record low number of Divergents to test and I don't have any answers for that. I'll have to think of something on the drive back."

"Why do you test them?" I'm mildly afraid of his answer, because I know little about Divergents or the testing. "Where do they test them?"

"In Erudite," he answers distractedly, and he doesn't look at me for another few minutes. "We'll eat here. This should be far enough."

He pulls the truck over, veering sharply to the side and I'm nearly thrown off the seat when he turns into an area not meant to park in. He surveys the surroundings quickly, and once he's satisfied, he looks back at me, staring at him.

"What'd you make Amity? Is it safe? Or am I going to wind up higher than a kite?"

I smile brightly, because really, he could use some peace serum. He probably wouldn't like it, but he might relax a little.

"I just brought salads. I wasn't sure what you liked to eat so…I thought this would be okay." I hope he doesn't ask how I came up with this, because I wouldn't be able to explain anything past the lettuce and the chicken. Sophia swore there was nothing crazy in it. They were still rationing the peace serum for at home use, or in the drinks, so there was nothing in the salad. I'd brought waters, and Sophia must have been really looking out for me, because she shoved some cookies on the side.

I make a mental note to thank her.

"That's fine," he looks at me, skeptical as ever, but he accepts the salad. He stares at it for a good minute, like perhaps he can see the peace serum in the dressing or maybe I'll stop him from eating and admit it's laced with something, but he eventually reaches for a fork and takes a single bite. He chews it, swallows dramatically, and smiles snarkily. "Do you trust me now?"

"No," I answer brightly, because he looks determined to get some answers out of me. It's oddly appealing, because he's working hard to make sure I'm not afraid of him, even though I'm currently on the outskirts of Amity, in his truck. "You could still kill me out here and no one would ever know."

"You're not wrong. No one would ever know," he answers seriously, and he reaches for the water. "There are no cameras in this section. Jason calls it the dead zone."

"Jason is…the one with red hair?"

"That's him. He likes you. He asked if I had seen you lately," Eric says this with a healthy dose of amusement, but he's facing me. "He wanted to know about your not boyfriend."

"Landon?" I say his name with horror, and I shake my head. "He's why I'm late. He's the one I punched in the face and now I'm probably going to get in trouble when I go back."

Eric takes this in stoically, but there's faint interest on his face.

"You punched him? Isn't that…against your rules?" He leans closer, inspecting my face and neck, and his eyes flash when he doesn't find a mark. "Did he hit you?"

"No, I punched him first. He just…kept saying stuff and insulting me, and I wanted him to leave me alone. He grabbed me by the Dome and told me to listen to him," I confess, and his gaze drops to my hand. The left one is unscathed, but the right one is sore. It's sort of red and dark around my knuckles and my guess was it would bruise. Above it, is the telling mark from where he grabbed me. "I don't want to get kicked out, but he's been driving me nuts. My dad wants me to marry him."

"Are you going to?"

This time, his question is as sharp as he is.

He puts his salad down and reaches for my hand. There's nothing romantic about the gesture, but he inspects my fingers then my wrist, and he frowns when I wince at the touch.

"That's going to bruise. You need to put ice on it." He declares, and I figure he's punched more people than I have. "He grabbed you?"

He doesn't let it go. He keeps looking at me, his stare burning with anger, but it's not at me.

"By the Dome. He wants…" I stop midsentence, because I'm about to admit he wants me to join his factionless army. The only issue with this, is once I say it, Eric will surely lose his mind. He won't just let it go and have someone else investigate. He'll go find Landon himself, which will reveal my father and brother's supposed involvement. "He wants me to agree to marry him and to be on his side."

"His side?" Eric's fingers stay on the mark, pressing in an oddly gentle manner. "What do you mean, his side?"

I stay silent, and he knows something is up.

"I told you… you can trust me."

His touch stays there, curling around my wrist and sliding over the bone.

"You also told me you could kill me out here and no one would know," I remind him, but I'm not afraid. Last night was the first time I'd ever noticed how large he was. Landon was tall, but Eric was tall and strong. He clearly had to be physically fit to protect the faction, and it wasn't just his personality that was overpowering. "He's never been like this before. I don't why he's so worked up."

"Don't defend him," Eric snaps, and he chews on his cheek. It must be raw, because he seems irritated more often than not. "He hurt you because he didn't get what he wanted."

I nod, because not only do I agree, but I've sort of inched closer to him. My salad is long forgotten and he keeps my hand in his, tightening his grip.

It's entirely different.

His fingers curl into my skin, slowly skimming over the bruised area.

"I can show you how to really punch him. So the next time he thinks he's gonna attack you, he'll know who's side you're really on." He smiles, with just a hint of dark satisfaction. "Which is mine."

"Do you know him?" My knee hits his salad, and he moves it to the dashboard without looking. "Do you know who Landon is?"

"I'm aware of a few in Amity. The ones who interest me, at least." His confession is unprompted, and I wonder if he's talking about me. "It's my job. If I didn't know what was going on, the factions would be at risk for shit like Divergents hiding out. Taking over. Starting a war."

His eyes meet mine, and in that second, I know Eric is well aware of what's going on.

"A war?"

He doesn't move his gaze from mine; he sort of smiles, knowingly.

"I would be careful who you go around punching. But if he comes after you again, don't hold back." Eric drops my hand, and he leans back. "Eat your lunch, Amity. I'll show you what to do after."

He reaches for his salad, glancing at his phone quickly, still powered off and still silent, and I reach for mine.

"You promise?"

He nods, picking up his fork and he glances back over at me.

We eat the rest of our lunch quietly, but I have to say, it's one of the best lunches I've ever had.

"Keep your weight in your back foot. Pull back, and when you're ready, aim for where it hurts. The bridge of the nose. His throat. Solar plexus. His eyes, if you can reach them."

Eric says the last part with a hint of both malice and humor. "Stand as tall as you can. If you back down at all, he'll know you won't really hurt him."

He says this part lowly, by my ear, as I lean back against him. His chest is solid behind me. The jacket he has on is thick and rough, and his arms encircle me, bent slightly to accommodate mine. There was probably an easier way to show me how to punch someone, but Eric had picked this method.

The one where I was trapped against his chest, my feet between his, and his head bent down toward mine.

I wasn't stupid. I'd fallen into him numerous times, tripping over my own feet or falling out of a tree right onto him, and now it was his turn. We'd finished lunch, finished our water, and he'd told me to get out of the truck. Seconds later, he yanked me against him and showed me the proper position to hit someone.

It felt very wrong, in the best way possible.

It was hard to miss how close he was, how he smelled way better than anyone else I knew, or how large he was. His hands covered mine completely, my head only came up to the middle of his chest, and despite hearing about how terrifying he was, I felt oddly safe. It was like no one could get me if I was with him.

Especially Landon.

The next time he came to threaten me, it would hurt a little more.

"You're not bad. You're not good, but you're not terrible," Eric informs me, his hands on mine. He stills, keeping me against his chest, and I feel him exhale. "This should keep him at bay until…"

"Until what?" I look back and up at him, and he looks down at me.

"Punch again. I have to get back, so we're done for the day."

"Okay," I steady myself, and I rear my arm back. The action isn't as natural as punching Landon had been, but it's far smoother than the first few times. "Do you train the initiates in Dauntless?"

"No," Eric lets out a scornful laugh, but he seems pleased with my punching. "I have nothing to do with them past making sure the curriculum is the best to prepare them as soldiers. We have two trainers. One for transfers, one for Dauntless born. I find both of them to be idiots."

"That's a surprise," I don't mean to say this, but I catch the look on his face. He's amused, but only for a second. "Thank you for showing me how to punch the right way."

His hands leave mine, and he steps away, like he's been jarred back to reality. His whole posture changes: he pulls himself to his full height and his mouth is tense. "If someone in Amity is acting out, perhaps you should report this to your leader. Before it goes any further."

The moment is gone.

He looks like he's just realized what he's doing; training someone in Amity to punch someone, after getting zero answers but sort of an answer at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah I will."

Our lesson ends right then and there. Eric clenches his jaw down, and roughly tells me to get back in the truck. I listen, because it's this or walk back to the faction. Our drive home is silent, tenser than ever, and I try to figure out where it went wrong.

I can't.

"Thank you for lunch."

I look up from the basket to his stare, and I realize we're back at the clearing. I didn't even notice him driving back through the faction, but I do notice the weird look on his face, and the odd tone to his voice.

It's almost nice.

Every time I've seen him speak –in person or virtually –he's been short. His tone is always pointed and rude, like whatever he's been assigned to say is beneath him or he couldn't care less about social niceties. But now, in the warm truck with just the two of us, he sounds normal.

A little strained, like maybe being nice wasn't his thing, but honest.

"You're welcome."

My voice wavers, and I know it's because I'm afraid I've screwed this up. Out of everything in my life, Eric was the only thing I'd looked forward to. I couldn't get away from my family, from Zander desperately wanting someone to pay attention to him, from my brother somehow involving himself in a war over his secret girlfriend, from my mother and father struggling with some not so secret argument. I couldn't escape the children I was assigned to watch, or Landon, looming in the distance like an oncoming nightmare.

These few encounters with Eric had been a lovely distraction, but it was clear they were coming to an end.

"Thank you, again. I'll talk to Johanna if…" I stop because he's out of the truck. He's walking around to my side, and he throws the door open. He stares up at me, his blonde hair severely parted and his expression just as intense, and I realize he's waiting for me to move. I slide over the seat, and when I fail to find the step to stand on, he reaches for me.

He helps me down, hands grasping my waist, warm and strong, and he doesn't let go once I'm on the ground.

"You need to be very careful. Do you understand? If you come across anyone in Amity acting odd, you let me know. Johanna won't do shit."

"When will you be back?" I look up at him, but he doesn't answer. "Eric?"

"In a week. Can you stay alive for a week?" His question is serious, but coming from him, it sounds downright romantic. "Everly?"

He says my name lowly, warm and quiet and I wonder what it would sound like if he said it in other ways.

"I can." I promise him, fully aware he's unconsciously closed the distance between us until I'm back against his chest. "So you're saying…I'll see you in a week?"

My question is hopeful, because he'd come to lunch. He ate what I brought, and while he was questioning me in a slick attempt to get information, it had been enjoyable. He drank the water, and he kept the cookies, which he thought I didn't notice, but I did, and he'd shown me how to defend myself.

This had to mean he liked me a little.

Enough to ask me not to die.

Eric smiles, and his fingers curl into my back, steady and unyielding, and he tilts his head.

He nods, making sure I'm looking at him, and then he finally answers.

"Yes."


	7. Jason and Not Jason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bamberlee for editing! Sorry if the formatting is weird. I'm trying to move these over from FF.NET and they look wonky to me. Hopefully, they look normal on the actual site.

"Do you have a fever?"

My mother hovers in front of me, pressing her palm to my forehead and frowning. She keeps it there for a long time, trying to detect some invisible warmth, but there is none.

I'm freezing, because it's early in the morning, and I've forgotten to dress warmly. "No, I just came here because I had to. Not because I'm sick."

"Okay, well I think you're fine. I'll mark it down that you're good to continue." She doesn't look away just yet, and her expression is mildly stressed. "Everly, are you okay? Mable stopped by yesterday and said you were gone for –"

"I wasn't gone long. I was asked to bring lunch for a few soldiers, so I did. I told her where I was going." I answer defensively, because I had a feeling this might come up. I'd returned from lunch with Eric to find the class painting the barn, just like Mable said. She smiled brightly, but she watched me very hesitantly head back into the pit of despair otherwise known as our class. They had been given some paint that would wash off, because they didn't just paint flowers. They drew whatever their tiny hearts desired, which was a whole lot of scribbles and things which resembled potatoes. There was more paint on them than the barn, and Courtney was busy trying to wipe blue streaks out of her hair.

It was obvious I wasn't thrilled to be back, and I did my best to avoid getting dirty.

"I wasn't even gone that long."

"Who asked you to bring them lunch?" My mom steps away to reach for the paper beside her. She writes something on it, presumably that I'm healthy and I don't want to take any vitamins or tea or slather myself in an oil meant to make me smarter, but she glances back in my direction. "Was it…Harrison?"

The pause before his name is telling.

"No, it was Eric." I figure I might as well not lie to her, because she clearly knew Harrison, and there was a chance she could ask him. I had no reason to lie, anyway. It was unlikely she'd get mad, considering she'd been holding onto him far more affectionately than she held my father's hand. "Do you know Eric?"

"I know of him. He seems…intense." She finally writes something and signs her name at the bottom. "Did he eat the lunch? Was it just him?"

Her gaze is piercing.

She must not be taking peace serum.

Which made sense. Everyone in our initiation class was scheduled to see her. The appointments ran from five to fifteen minutes and were pretty harmless. Since we had no official doctor here, my mother was the one in charge of making sure initiates were in good enough health to continue. She took our temperature, with her hand, examined our eyes, asked a few simple questions, and then would clear the person or prescribe something for them to take.

Sophia was told to take an iron supplement.

Courtney got a multivitamin.

It was looking like I was about to get a lesson on staying away from members of Dauntless.

"Yeah, he ate it. It was fine. He said he was here on…business," I try to avoid answering the part about anyone else being there. I flash back to Eric eating the salad in an attempt to get me to trust him, and the way he'd held my hand. He was oddly concerned about it, and if I tried hard enough, I could still remember the feeling of his fingers pressing on my wrist bone. "He said…"

"You need to be very careful with him." My mother closes the folder, old and worn and reused from the last initiation. The name crossed out reads Kelly, and I idly wonder whatever happened to her. "Everly, he's…Eric is…" She pauses, searching for a word. "He's dangerous. They're all dangerous. Not just because they could hurt you."

"I thought they protect the city," I shrug, wondering why all of a sudden everyone was acting like Eric was going to stab me the next time I saw him. "Did Landon say something to you?"

"Actually, yes. Landon thinks Eric is coming to you for information. He's worried you're going to tell him what he wants to hear and he'll twist it to say people in Amity are doing something wrong. I've been worried about this all morning."

"Why?" I stare at her in pure horror, wondering if she was involved too. Of course, Landon told her Eric had spoken to me. Of course, Landon came to my mother, making it look like I was an idiot who couldn't tell Eric wanted information. I was hoping him showing up was more than that, but it was unlikely.

Still, he'd shown me how to punch Landon, and I would bet if Landon came after me again, Eric would go after him.

"Are you doing something wrong?"

"No!" My mother's eyes widen, and she looks confused. "I'm just…the Dauntless soldiers aren't nice, nor does their job allow them to be. Their job is to protect us, but not all of them are good people. They can change things around to benefit them. They aren't coming here just because they want to."

"You seem to know a lot about Dauntless." I hop down off the table, and I fix my sleeve. "How do you know Harrison?"

My mother falls silent. She tilts her head to the side, clutching my folder to her chest, and her expression becomes pained.

"I wrote down that you should start drinking some of the tea here. I think it would be beneficial to you. Just a normal, immunity boosting tea. I'll have it ready for you in the morning." Her words are dismissive; they're unlike her, but it's clear our appointment is over.

"The tea?" I shake my head, hating the idea. I didn't want to drink anything that made me feel weird, let alone something concocted with things she'd pulled out of the ground. "Mom, I'm fine. I don't need—"

"Have the next person come in. I need to get through your class before dinner."

My mother walks away from me, taking the file with her. She ignores my protest completely, not even budging when I don't leave.

Damn.

Forrest was the first person who'd told me the tea was dangerous. He claimed the evidence of what the tea did was unfounded. I'd squinted at him, not really sure how someone who worked with plants and cheerfully helped grow them could go against his own job or his mother. He whispered the tea did nothing, and it was just hot water with ground up plants and leaves but none of it was safe to ingest. His words went against everything one would believe, especially our mother, and he waited until she was gone to dump his drink down the sink.

I wouldn't be so lucky.

"It's just a tea."

I try to point this out to myself, figuring maybe I could get away with drinking a few sips, and then she'd forget.

I try to convince myself of this while I walk out to tell the next person they can go inside.

The sun is warm.

The bright rays feel luxurious on my skin, after days of unusually cool weather. I lie on the blanket I'd brought, reclined back with one arm over my eyes and my dress pulled up so my legs would be warm, and I listen to Zander splash at the edge of the lake.

"Everly! Everly watch me!"

I blink my eyes open to see him spin around, kicking water everywhere.

I wasn't particularly worried, because Zander had no fear. He had learned to swim the minute someone could teach him. He tagged along with anyone going to the lake, anyone who went to the river, and anyone going anywhere where he could jump into something. Even as a tiny baby, he lived his life defiantly, bored by the confines of my parents wanting to keep him alive.

"EVERLY!"

"Nice, Zander. Good job," I call back, moving my arm to squint at him.

He stands on the edge of the lake, jumping up and down, so his feet sink into the bank. This pleases him, so he does it again, then looks over at me expectantly.

"Can you find a rock for me?" I yell, hoping this will buy me a few minutes of quiet time. "Or two rocks? Don't forget, if you want to go into the water, you have to tell me so I can go with you."

"I CAN FIND ROCKS!" His shriek is thrilled; not only did Zander love the water, but he loved having a task to do. I'd learned a great way to keep him busy was to have him "help" with something, unless he was being a little shit and knew you were trying to distract him. "Two rocks! Three rocks! Four rocks!"

His little counting drifts into the air, and I close my eyes.

Life is not going so well.

I mean, it is, but not really.

A few days ago, my mother had performed my physical exam and declared I could continue through initiation. No one ever failed this part because we needed members. A few people would go back to her for various ailments; there was a guy with dark hair who was anxious and nervous and afraid he'd fail, so my mother would see him a few times a week. A kid who'd had a headache since he got here. A girl covered in bug bites, having failed to realize the fields were full of bugs, and she was a nice treat for them. Someone with a sunburn, moaning how their skin felt like it was on fire. A girl who was panicky at the thought of endless fields, endless days, and had fallen down on one of the pathways and now had a lovely gash on her leg.

My mother was quick to treat these things, and she did so cheerfully.

I had returned to my class with the utmost of reluctance, feeling a bit like a failure. I was so sure Amity was my home. I had been confident with my test results, and I'd picked Amity without an ounce of hesitation.

But now, weeks deep into watching small children and struggling with the fact that my parents had asked I continue living with them, I was feeling trapped. I could have moved to the communal living, where all the transfers were staying, but my mother needed help. Zander isn't my total responsibility, but sometimes it feels like it.

So when they asked, I couldn't say no, and now I feel like I've missed the opportunity to say yes. I was great at thinking of others, and always willing to lend a hand, but it was starting to feel stifling.

Mable had noticed, too.

Yesterday, she gently pulled me aside and asked if I was okay. I was sort of spacing out, watching Cody and Holden feed the chickens, and I must have been frowning. I promised I was fine, but she didn't look like she believed me.

"Eighty-six rocks, eighty-seven…Hey! Everly look!"

I open my eyes when Zander says my name, and I sit up suddenly.

There, at the bank of the lake, is Harrison. He's crouched down with Zander, paying no mind to his boots getting wet and the chilly water lapping in lazy waves toward them. They're both busy; Harrison leans in, helping Zander pick out a few rocks, smooth and flat from years of being in the water, and it takes them a second before they both look over at me.

"Hello Everly."

"Um, hi." I answer back in pure disbelief, as Harrison points to a dragonfly skimming over the lake, a brave one hanging on despite the upcoming winter.

But I can't focus on that.

Only on Harrison and Zander, now busy trying to get my attention.

My whole world tilts, because in this moment, they have the same face. Their expressions mirror each other to the point where I can't look away. Both of their eyebrows are knit inward, and their smiles are the same. They grin at me, amused that they'd caught me off guard, like they're sharing a secret.

"Hey!"

"You okay over there?" Harrison calls out, and Zander looks up at him with the utmost pure adoration.

He reaches out tentatively, tiny fingers touching the sleeve of Harrison's jacket, totally transfixed on the sight before him. "Mine."

"Does your brother know how to swim?"

"I can swim!" Zander answers for me, unwilling to share the attention of this soldier with me. He moves in front of Harrison, showing him the rocks, he'd found, one after the other. "Look at this one! Hey! Hey, look!"

"He can swim," I sit up further, staring at the two of them in the warm sun. Behind Harrison are trees and rocks, then a path leading deep into the woods, a picture-perfect background. "He's a really good swimmer, actually."

I move to sit on my knees, and Harrison gently takes the rocks from Zander. He turns them over like they're some precious stones, rather than lake rocks which Zander will undoubtedly toss back into the water before we leave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Patrolling. It was my turn to come through here. My territory runs past this lake. I saw him by the water and wanted to make sure he wasn't alone." Harrison answers, and I feel a flash of guilt that I hadn't been over there with Zander.

"Sorry, I was watching him. He's really enjoying the warm weather. I told him to call me if he wanted to go in," I watch Harrison carefully, still not caring that he was in the water, and if he wasn't careful, Zander was about to drag him out farther. "Did you find anything interesting?"

"Sure," Harrison shrugs, and he turns back to Zander. "Those are nice. I bet your mom would like to see them."

"Okay," Zander looks confused for a moment, but he nods slowly. He turns, and his look is demanding. "Everly! Carry the rocks!"

He points to the pile he's made on the shoreline. It's impressive, and I wonder how on Earth I'm supposed to carry a million rocks home.

"Okay, but maybe just…pick a few. Your favorite ones." I make no move to stand up. I wasn't in a hurry to go home. My father had left early this morning, waking almost everyone up while he looked for some paperwork he'd misplaced, and he and my mother had a frosty exchange over how long he'd be gone. Their temporary truce was forgotten when he told her he had to work late into the night, and when I finally saw her, the look on her face told me she wasn't happy with this news.

"Who taught you to swim?" Harrison asks, but he's not talking to me. He's facing Zander, listening intently while Zander gives him a thousand-word explanation. "Who?"

"Forrest," I call out. "Our older brother taught him."

"Yes," Zander solemnly agrees, and I realize he's on his best behavior. There's something about Harrison and his uniform that Zander likes, so he's not willing to risk him leaving. "I show you."

"I wish, pal. I gotta get back to my work," Harrison stands up, but the unwillingness is all over his face. He looks back down at Zander, and smiles, in an oddly affectionate manner. Maybe the key to getting someone from Dauntless to like you was to be a smiling child, standing shin deep in lake water. "I bet I'll see you around though. I don't know too many little guys who can swim."

"No!" Zander's gasp is loud, especially when Harrison steps away from the water. He throws me a goodbye nod, half waving and half waiting for me to say something, but I can't.

I don't know why, but I feel the same way Zander does. I don't want him to leave, but I don't know why.

"I'll see you around. Don't worry."

"Will you come back? "I ask him hopefully, the same way I asked Eric if I would see him.

Harrison answers much quicker.

"Couple days. The soldiers have a route through here routinely. I may wind up on another one. You both be good, especially you, little guy."

And then, he's gone.

Harrison heads onto the dirt pathway, and strides straight toward the woods. There is no truck parked that I can see, nor is there anyone else with him. He vanishes at the point where the trees move closer together, and his dark uniform fades away into a blur of greenery.

I expect Zander to yell or scream, or insist we go the same way in hopes of finding Harrison, his new favorite person, but he doesn't.

He flops down on the blanket next to me, his hands full of rocks, and he cheerfully tells me he'd like to go home.

My mother's surprise lingers for days.

Until I'm not so sure I believe it's surprise.

After our day at the lake, Zander immediately showed her his rocks. She was appropriately enthused as she examined them, and she promised to keep them. She willingly took them from him, but she froze when he pointed out which ones Harrison helped him find.

"Harrison helped you pick these out?"

She was verklempt; her posture tense, and her expression flitted between overwhelmed and horrified. I could see it in her eyes, blinking the thought away, and her mouth, torn between frowning and smiling.

"Yes! He came back!" Zander happily took the rocks from her and shoved them back in his pockets. He left her standing in the kitchen, empty handed, looking at me. "Bye!"

"Why was he there?"

Her question is as pointed as her insistence that I drink her tea, and just as stern. "Everly?"

"He was working," I shrug, not wanting to share what had happened. It felt oddly special, a moment between the three of us, well really -him and Zander, but I didn't want to tell her he'd said he'd come back.

I was slowly figuring out she had plenty of her own secrets, and I wanted to keep this as one of mine.

This time, I take a jacket.

I grab one that belongs to Forrest, heavy and thick and too warm, but my mother made me promise to bring one.

I was being sent to bring my father dinner.

For the past few nights, he'd been working late. It wasn't unusual, until it was. He often stayed late when it was required of him; during the winter, the crops were less and less, and he was in charge of making sure anything that could grow inside, would. But it isn't that cold yet, and his absence is noticeable.

"I'll be back!" I yell to no one.

My mother is upstairs giving Zander a bath. He'd spent all of dinner rattling on and on about Harrison, and she'd let him after she couldn't get him to stop. Holly and Paisley were already in bed, and Leif and Wesley were with Forrest, chopping wood just in case it got cold sooner than we expected.

The only person who answers is Forrest, and he cheerfully yells for me to shut up.

"You shut up," I mutter, and I let the door slam behind me.

This week hadn't improved at all. I kept hoping to see Eric, and I had been telling myself it was because I was bored. I was doing my best to convince myself his presence was nothing more than some mildly dangerous entertainment and I liked it because everything else felt monotonous.

So far, I had only seen Harrison.

I liked him, though. He had been much friendlier this time around, and he seemed to really like Zander. I should have been worried by his sudden appearance, but I wasn't. It was obvious he had his own secrets and they might overlap with some of mine.

I try to put all this together, my mother holding onto him, her ongoing argument with my father, and Harrison and Zander at the lake, but before my brain can point out the obvious, I arrive at the greenhouses.

To my dismay, they are dark.

I hesitate at the large doors, because the glass panes aren't lit up. Not even the dim nighttime lighting is on, and it's quiet. The only noise is the hum from the generators, the slow whirl of the vents, and the chirp of a cricket.

I hesitate because I don't love the dark.

I liked nighttime. I liked being out here, I liked the quiet and the aloneness and the way it felt like I was sneaking around. I just didn't like the total blackness when someone was supposed to be here.

"Dad?"

I call out his name tentatively, hoping he'll answer. There's a chance he's outside working on the backup generators as a failsafe, or maybe he's closing everything up for the night.

It's not the case tonight.

I open the door slowly, and I'm met with warm, damp air, the smell of overly floral plants and the distinct scent of the Earth.

"Hello?" It takes my eyes a moment to adjust, and in the dark, the plants are threatening. They grow in every direction, twisting and tangling so high I can't see the ceiling. I wait until I can see better, then I make a beeline for his office. The door is halfway open, dull light spilling out in a neat sliver. "Is anyone here?"

I keep going in hopes of finding him here, maybe in his office, so in the zone that he didn't hear me calling for him.

"Dad?" I try once more before I reach his office, and I fling the door open. I'm met with an empty room, and a mess, like someone left in a rush. The chaos isn't unusual for him, but he liked a little more order. He wavered between being creative in how to grow all sorts of things, and smart in how the systems worked. He'd once been awarded the title of Head of Agriculture, something which he strived to live up to. It was usually easy; he loved what he did, and at times, he seemed too smart to be tinkering with watering systems.

Other times, it was clear he loved having his hands in the Earth, and training others to feel the same way.

"Well, shoot. What am I supposed to do now?"

My stare sweeps over his desk, and I'm tempted to look at the neat log of initiates he was working with. He rarely spoke of them at home, and during initiation time, they were his priority.

It had long felt like they were always a priority, especially the ones who stayed working with him.

I decide to take the dinner back home and put it away. I figure he can eat it when he's home, or someone else will. I shut off the light and close the door, and I hurry toward the exit. I've just passed the largest row of plants, the ones growing so high they've tangled together where the panes of glass meet, when I hear the voices.

One low, and one lower.

I freeze in place, mere steps away from the large doors, when they fly open.

I don't have time to move or even think, because in walks Landon.

He slides in like he owns the place, gesturing grandly but speaking lowly.

He's not alone.

The man from the factionless is with him, his hands shoved in the pockets of his dark jacket, and his eyes sweeping over the greenhouse. They miss me entirely when Landon insists the guy walk with him, and I try to remember his name. I only remember him because his clothes were suspiciously dark, and he was a little too clean.

"So, he works from here. These are used to grow the crops when the fields can't. I told Evelyn he's brilliant. Amity could support a dozen more of these, but Johanna has been slow to get on board. We're working on constructing them this initiation…"

Landon speaks quickly, not letting the guy look at too much. It hits me his name is Tobias, and he's silent. Occasionally, he reaches out to touch a plant when Landon doesn't notice, and his shoulders rise up. They keep walking until they reach the office, and they disappear inside.

I have half a mind to follow after them, but I don't.

Outside the door, waving and gesturing for me to stay silent, is Sophia.

"I've been following him all night."

She and I collide into each other as we half walk, half sprint home. She had grabbed my arm outside the greenhouse, and we took off. My first thought was to find someone to tell. My father was a good start, but he was nowhere to be found. Johanna would be next best, but I remember someone saying she wouldn't do anything.

Sophia was the last person I expected to help me, but she was clearly suspicious of Landon ever since he'd threatened us.

"I saw him leave after dinner and…and I followed him into the woods. I lost him for a minute, and then I found him, and I…"

She stops talking when we pass a girl walking her ducks, and we both smile brightly. She barely acknowledges us, and mumbles something about the waning moon and how we should get inside.

"He's doing something with the factionless. I don't know if he's trying to help them or harm them. There weren't very many, but the guy he was with kept saying they had to hurry. Don't say anything to anyone yet. I want to find out what he's doing so I can bust him in front of everyone."

"Sophia!" I'm surprised, both at her bravery and her pettiness. It was pretty unlike her. The Amity thing to do would be to talk to Landon privately, and give him the chance to explain what he was doing. He would explain it easily, of course. He'd say he was helping them or serving them dinner or trying to help feed them. Anyone in Amity would be hard pressed to find fault in the kindness of this act, and he knew it. "I know. I think this is why he's been acting weird. I just…we need to let him do it for a few more days. Then we'll know for sure. If you say anything now, he'll tell everyone he's helping someone."

"He shouldn't be in the greenhouses," she answers firmly, but she nods her head. "I agree. But when I find out, and I will, I'm going straight to Johanna. Will you go with me?"

My heart sinks when she says Johanna's name, because it was unlikely she'd do anything, but I nod.

With any luck, I'd have this figured out by then, or I'll have told Eric Landon's name.

This time, the Dauntless soldiers show up at dinner.

But not the ones I want.

It only adds to my annoyance. Friday was stretching on forever. The day spanned hours upon hours, with each passing minute stabbing into my skin. There was no sign of Eric, and I knew this, because I'd been looking for him. All morning, all lunch, all afternoon, right up until the kids were dismissed and parents arrived to pick them up. I looked for him while I walked to dinner, agreeing to go with Courtney and Sophia, and half listening to them gossip about one of the transfers.

Gossip wasn't very Amity like, but it was inevitable.

Especially when a lot of the transfers were proving to be pretty whiny.

"Hey, Sophia and I are going to grab plates. Can you find a table? It's super crowded already," Courtney fixes her hair slyly, watching one of the transfers slink past to join the line. He's tall and handsome, and he glances back at her while trying to pretend he isn't. "Maybe to the left?"

"Sure," I agree easily, having no real appetite.

I was feeling a little forlorn, and I knew why.

Because Eric hadn't shown up and the only ones here were a woman I didn't know, a guy I didn't know, and a wave of black jackets poking around doing nothing. Some smiled, some looked at us like we were the grossest thing imaginable, and some flat out laughed as they walked by.

It just wasn't a very promising way to start my weekend, feeling lovesick over a soldier who promised me he'd show up, nor getting mocked by the ones who didn't like what we were wearing.

I sit with this sulkily, examining the ends of my hair out of sheer boredom. I had found a table on the left, by the entryway doors, and pretty secluded. With not much to do except wait, I try to drown out the noise of the Dome, chatter from the initiates and members alike, until someone plunks themselves down at my table and elbows me.

Hard.

"Everly!"

"Jake?"

I look up to a shock of red hair, now cut short and sharp, and another blur of blonde hair. His friend drops into the seat beside him, flashing me a blinding grin, and they're both dressed in matching Dauntless uniforms.

They are tall, looming over me and Jake is much larger and more fit than I remember.

"What are you doing here?" I reach over to hug him, having known Jake forever, and still secretly jealous that he'd been brave enough to leave Amity. Jake wasn't as kind as Landon pretended to be, for he was actually really, really nice. I'd never once thought he'd leave here, because he seemed as enamored with this slow pace of life as everyone else here, but he did. He cheerfully sliced his palm and chose Dauntless, and I thought I'd never see him again. "How are you? And who are you?"

"I'm good!" Jake answers, grinning happily, and his companion is eager to get my attention.

"I'm Karl," the blonde one reaches his hand out to mine, and I stare at him for a minute. "Um, you can shake my hand. I'm not going to rip your arm off or anything."

"Are you sure?" I take his reluctantly, and he shakes my hand far more enthusiastically than I shake his. "I'm Everly."

"Karl is very formal. He's from Candor. He tried to shake Four's hand, too." Jake answers, and I can tell they're already best friends. "Four refused."

"Who's Four?" I stare at them in confusion, and my table is suddenly swarmed with soldiers in dark jackets. They all must be in the same class, because they shove and push one another, vying for a spot to sit. Each of them is large and bulky, wired with jock adrenaline from working out for hours. "What are you…"

"Are you Everly?" one asks, staring at me with wide eyes. "Jake, is she Everly? For real?

"Yeah, she's Everly! I told you she was real." Jake answers quickly, smiling smugly, and I wonder how much he's told them about me.

Or why he told them anything.

We'd never been anything but friends, and occasionally, he'd rescue me from getting stuck with Zander for too long.

"She is pretty! Are you single?" The one named Karl is still staring, like a cross factional marriage proposal could take place, and I wonder if this is how Sophia and Courtney felt when they were proposed to. "Is your boyfriend that guy glaring at you?"

I don't turn around.

My guess would be Landon is watching and banking this little dinner away for his own reasons.

"No, whoever is glaring is not my boyfriend," I answer firmly, and Karl smiles even wider. "Don't look so relieved. Why do you even care?"

I hope I don't come off rudely, but they are overwhelming. They seem much rougher and far more resilient than the men who work in our fields, even at a younger age.

"We heard about you from Jake. Everyone has been giving him shit for coming from Amity, and he promised us there were some cool people here. He talked about you but we didn't think you were real," Karl's friend answers, and he glances around the Dome. "Does everyone eat in here?"

"If they want to. Some families cook at home. Those with no cooking skills can eat here," I answer, perking up slightly. They seem fine. Totally nice, and not at all like the ones looking down their noses at the puffy sleeves of the dress I have on.

"Everly can't cook," Jake winks, and it's with great horror that I remember the time he dropped by. To find me attempting to help my mother, and discovering I was close to burning the house down.

"Neither can we." One answers, and I decide I like them. They all look alike; Karl is the only blond, but they all have the same haircut, the same uniform, and the same stirrings of authority.

One day, they will trample through here, and perhaps one will remember to be nice to me.

"Do you guys like Dauntless?"

"I love it," the one to the left of Karl answers loudly, and they all agree. "It's dark and loud and fast. Everything happens so quick. We had to learn to fight and prove we could hold our own. Jake was the best at knife throwing and-"

"Knife throwing?" I stare at Jake, watching his smile suddenly fade. The color drains from his face, too, and when I turn around, I know why. "Oh."

There, leaning against the wall with a dark sneer on his face, is Eric.

"I didn't think you were coming."

This time, he drags me along with him. I manage to get my arm away, the feeling of his grip a little too close to Landon trying to drag me to my death, and Eric glances down in surprise. "I can keep up with you. You don't have to pull me everywhere."

His sneer drops completely. I'd say I've caught him off guard, and my guess is no one talks back to him.

"I didn't mean…" he mutters something I can't hear, but he drops his hand away and sticks by my side. He's taller than the boys at the table and his uniform is darker. It's easy to see why people fear him. Violence comes easily to him, and it'll soon come easily to Jake and Karl. "I don't have much time. There were reports of people walking through your faction the other night. Did you see anyone?"

"No," I answer without thinking, because I have to walk fast. I'd lied about being able to keep up. Eric's stride is much longer than mine, and I trip over the skirt I have on.

He catches me without looking.

His hand is on my arm, this time less tightly, and he pulls me back toward him.

"You wouldn't last a day in Dauntless."

His words are dark, but they make me smile, because it means he's thought about what it would be like if I were there. Or maybe I'm over thinking it, and he's just commenting that I'd fall to my death in his dark underworld of a faction.

"Actually, I did see someone…"

This gets his attention. Eric points to the barn, and I follow him inside without question. I revel in my moment of bravery, because going after him was either very smart or very stupid.

"Who?"

His question is less of a question and more of a demand, and I waver with how much I should actually be sharing.

"I don't know," I also don't know how he knows where he's going. He leads me through the barn and to the stairs, and my eyes fly up to where Johanna's office sits. "Are you meeting her?"

"She's not here. She missed her last meeting, won't answer our emails, and appears to be shifting the delivery schedule by a day. We're here to find out why." He takes the steps two at a time, then pauses to make sure I'm following him.

I am.

"Do you know where she is?"

I shake my head as he reaches his hand out. I remind myself he's not being considerate; he just wants information.

"I haven't seen her in days." I reach my hand out to him, and he takes it in his. His hand is much larger than mine, and rough. Not like Landon's, which were rough from working in the fields, but rough like he's not used to holding onto someone. "I came to talk to her and she…she told me to come back if it was important."

He tightens his grip.

His hold on my hand is awkward. There's nothing romantic, no fingers slid together or tightly because he can't bear to let go, only a tense grip to keep me from falling. We reach the top of the landing together, and before I can notice the office is deserted, he's behind me. He nudges me forward but doesn't let go.

"Where did you see someone?"

Eric looks down at me, casting away all my convictions that I'd be fine if I didn't see him again. His grey eyes are light in the dimly lit office, and his skin is paler than before.

"Did you really see someone? Or did you just want to talk?" His words hold a faint hint of mockery, and so does his loss of attention. He glances over my head, and his eyes scan the room like he's memorizing it.

Johanna's workspace was interesting. It was lofty and warm, faintly smelling like hay and pine, and she was rarely in it. An ancient computer sat on a desk built by someone here, and it was rarely used. There is paperwork by it, unmarked and messily stacked, and a whole tower of folders beside them.

They are of no interest to Eric.

He returns his stare to me, biting on his cheek as he waits for my answer.

"I saw them twice. Once in the woods, and once in the greenhouses."

"Recently?" His interest is piqued, and he makes the word sound dirty. He murmurs it, but he lets go of my hand. I regret saying anything, because him pulling me up the stairs was the most physical contact I'd had unless you counted Zander kicking me in his sleep, and it's gone now. "Come on, Amity. Stop playing around. I told you, you can trust me."

My heart skips two very painful beats.

One when his hand finds my waist.

The second when he pulls me against him, and his gaze drops from my eyes to my mouth.

"I told you I'd come back." He reminds me of this with a smugness that makes him unbelievably handsome. He looks like he's trying not to laugh, and his fingers skip up higher. They touch my spine, pressing one by one. "I kept my word."

"You did," I answer, craning my head to look up at him. He's almost too good looking, and it's a shame he's always so covered up. "But you brought along half the Dauntless initiation with you. I don't remember you saying that part."

This makes him laugh.

His face lights up in rare delight, fast and fleeting, and it's gone in a second.

"I had to. Part of their initiation is to tag along with leaders. The others are here. I just showed up to help out. Their current trainer is a bit…all over the place." Eric murmurs this information like I know what to do with it, but I don't care. He's moved infinitesimally closer. His free hand moves my hair off my neck, and he stares so darkly I can't move. "Have you met him, Everly? Is that why you're so quiet?"

I shake my head no.

"I don't know who he is," I answer, and my hands betray the last ounce of common sense I have. I reach up to touch the collar of his jacket. My fingers move along the thick fabric, and when I touch the exposed skin of his neck, his lips part. "I just…I didn't think you'd show up."

"I always keep my word. Have I lied to you yet?"

I'm screwed.

Truly screwed, because he's so close to me now if I were to tilt my head up, my lips would touch his. For a second, I envision this, a lovely image blossoming in my mind and how it would feel to kiss him.

I imagine it would be terrifying in the best way possible.

"You said to stay alive and I did," I answer, even though this isn't what he asked.

But he likes it.

Though he does his best not to, his lips turn up and his eyes flash with pride.

"I have to say, judging by the way you walk, that is impressive." Eric moves closer, tilting his head to touch mine. "Who knew Amity was so dangerous?"

I want to tell him it is.

I want to tell him there was something going on, and I knew about it. I knew Landon had met with the factionless, and I knew he had met with someone who I believed to be from Dauntless. I want to tell him all of this, but I don't, because someone yells his name from downstairs, and he hesitates. I can feel the annoyance radiating from him, thick and heavy and unrelenting, and he screws his eyes shut.

"WHAT!?" Eric barks at the person downstairs, and once they realize he's upstairs, their footsteps are heavy on the wooden staircase. It creaks as they rush up here, and he lifts his head when they near the top.

Our moment isn't quite gone. He doesn't look away, and he doesn't move his hands.

Jason and Not Jason show up at the same time. They shove each other out of the way, each vying to get to him first. Both stop in their tracks when they realize he isn't alone, and Not Jason nearly falls backward.

"Holy fucking shit. You said-"

"Did you two find anything? You were supposed to be waiting for Harrison's call, not fucking playing around." Eric answers him rudely, his tone dipping so far into rage I'd be afraid if I were Not Jason.

He's not at all bothered.

"First of all, how dare you. You said nothing was going on between you two. You even agreed she's too short." Not Jason stares, cocking his head at an angle and squinting. "Does she even have shoes on?"

"I have shoes on!" I answer defensively, but I don't know why this comment bothers me. "He was asking me about the men I saw. That's all."

"The men you saw. Sure. Now Amity is spy. How tall are you? Four foot-"

"She's fine. A little short for Dauntless, but that's alright," Jason interrupts and he flashes me a friendly grin. "It's good to see you, Everly! I was wondering if we'd run into you. We've heard a lot about you but Eric made us swear we wouldn't-"

"Did Harrison call or not?" Eric interrupts him, and he finally lets go. The loss of him is immediate, and I'm suddenly right back in Johanna's office, standing beside a soldier who isn't here to see me. "Are we ready to leave?"

"We're heading back but he didn't call," Not Jason answers slickly, and his attention is fully on me. "He's waiting on a few things. Said the cameras aren't working. But wait, back up, Everly saw some men. Really?"

"I did," I answer him, and Eric takes a step closer to me. It's not incredibly obvious, but his arm brushes against mine, and I have the urge to press myself against him. "I was just telling Eric. I would have told Jason or…Harrison or…you…. but this is the first time I've run into anyone from Dauntless."

"I see," Not Jason steps closer, inspecting me intently. "Everly…my favorite person in Amity…can you tell me something..."

He waits, looking at me to make sure I'll agree.

"What do you want to know?" I'm suddenly suspicious of him, and his messy hair. He and Jason have the same air of mischief about them, but Not Jason seems even more outgoing. "Wait, I'm your favorite person here? Am I the only person in Amity you know?"

"Yes, but that's not important," Not Jason waves dismissively. "You said Jason's name. Harrison's name. And you and Eric are very close, clearly. What's my name?"

Shit.

I stall by chewing on my lip, trying to remember if anyone had said it.

I don't think they had, but judging from the look on his face, he's about to be terribly insulted that I don't know it.

"Um, I've just been calling you NJ!" I answer brightly, and next to me, Eric fights down a huff of laughter.

"NJ?"

"It's a…nickname," I try to come up with something quickly, and I hope he doesn't know what it stands for.

"NJ…NJ, nice. Do you want to tell me what it means? No, wait. Let me guess. Not Jerky? Night Justice? Nice and Gorgeous?"

"That doesn't start with a J," Eric answers dryly, and Not Jason shrugs.

"Well, there's a reason I didn't stay in Erudite, Eric."

"No shit," Jason laughs, and he slaps him on the arm. "Hey, we should get back downstairs. Lauren said ten more minutes and they're heading back. We just came to find you, unless you're staying here."

"I'm good, thanks." Eric retorts, and it's like a kick to the stomach to know he's leaving.

His time here had been fleeting. All too brief, but far more intense than the last time I saw him.

"I'll meet you downstairs. Make sure Four's class is all there." Eric commands, and he doesn't bother to see if they agree. It must go unspoken that they have to listen to him, because they leave with a wave, and Not Jason mockingly salutes Eric once his back is turned.

"Bye Everly. I'm sure we'll see you again soon."

"Bye…NJ!" I call out, and before I can say goodbye to Jason, Eric is in front of me.

"Where did you see them? In the forest?"

"I can show you," I offer, but I know we don't have time. The sun is setting quickly, and it'll be dark before they make it back to their trucks. "Maybe tomorrow? It's sort of far."

Eric contemplates this. I watch him process my words, and his mind whirls as he decides. I don't know why he's hesitating, maybe he thinks I haven't actually seen anyone or I just want him to come back, but it would be understandable. He'd been honest with me, but I'd kept a few things from him.

"They were in my father's greenhouse, too. Last night, around seven."

I step forward, but we're so close I wind up back in the same position as before. This time, my mind reminds me that no matter how attractive he is, he's dangerous. He's here to hunt down the very people he'd warned me about, except two of them are close to me.

I could very easily be brought in with them, as an accomplice.

"Did they see you? What did they look like?" Eric looks down at me, and there's a hint of concern. "Can you stay alive until tomorrow?"

"I can," I promise, but for some reason, this feels like a lie.

Maybe it was Landon promising to ruin my initiation or becoming braver and braver in his quest to win me, no matter how he went about it, but I had the weird feeling I was very slowly putting myself in danger.

A danger I might not be able to get out of.

"You look worried. Is something wrong? Did Landon try to hurt you again?"

This time, his touch is soft.

His fingers find mine, not his hand grasping on to keep me in line to answer his questions, but because he's trying to reassure me things are alright. His hand is just as warm as before, but he stops halfway, then bends his fingers so they slide between my own. His thumb touches my palm, stroking softly as it traces down the center.

Coming from him, the action is downright illicit.

"I think…I think one of them is going to come after me." I barely get this out, and he nods. He exhales sharply, but he waits for me to continue. "I think…I'm pretty sure…."

Ultimately, I can't say it.

I look away, until I find the courage that I've been pretending doesn't exist.

"I think Landon is involved. I'm not sure how, but he's doing something he shouldn't be doing."

"With the factionless?" Eric raises an eyebrow, and I nod. "Okay. Okay, I'll meet you tomorrow night. Meet me at 6 where we met for lunch. Don't tell anyone. Just…show up there, and you can show me where he's been."

"Don't you have this on camera? I thought everywhere had them?"

I look up at Eric and his answer is a flat no.

"Someone's been turning them off. We work with Johanna to allow us here to fix them. It's a social nicety. We can come here as we please, but in order to keep the peace, we ask. She's declined the past three times." Eric's eyes find mine, and he blinks. "The cameras anywhere past half a mile into the woods don't work. All of them are offline. Harrison is working to get them up, but it's too big of a job for one person. He's refusing to allow anyone to help him. So until then, stay where I can see you."

"Do you watch them?" I ask, and he shrugs indifferently.

"Depends. But stay on the main pathway. Don't get any braver between now and then, Amity. And don't tell anyone else what's going on. This stays between you and me," Eric warns, and he steps back. His fingers stay through mine, and he doesn't break eye contact. "Understand?"

"Okay," I reassure him, hoping he believes me. "But how do I really know I can trust you? How do I know you won't kill me once we go out there and blame it on…"

"I won't hurt you. I promise. I haven't broken any of my promises to you yet, have I?"

This time, the insult is there. It's in his tone and his posture, and I realize he doesn't want me to be afraid of him.

Even though I should.

"Amity?"

He waits until I shake my head no, feeling both nervous and excited that I'll see him again so soon, and it takes him a long time to let go.

He drops his hand away from mine, slowly, like he's unwilling to part ways, until it becomes clear he has no choice.

Jason and Not Jason yell for him, and he leaves without looking back.


	8. Landon The LowLife

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks to Bamberlee for editing!

I watch the Dauntless leave from the edge of the Dome.

I don't go back to where I had been sitting, though by now Sophia and Courtney must be wondering where I went, but instead, I stay to the very side. I have a fairly good view from here, and no one notices me watching.

Jake and his friend Karl leave, happily bopping along with their friends as they follow out a surly looking woman. She's about my size, but her dark hair is pulled up so severely it looks painful. Her uniform is the same as Eric's, but less black, and somewhat fitted. She yells at the initiates to fall in line, and they do. They listen to her with the same sort of respect I would expect if Eric were the one barking out orders, and they quiet down when Jason and Not Jason stroll by.

Jason counts them while he walks, tapping a few and pushing them further into the line, and he pauses by Jake. He talks to him for just a moment, and he leaves when Not Jason shows up.

Not Jason is more casual with his perusal of the initiates. He smacks one in the head, gesturing for him to fix his jacket and cuts another off so he can walk with Jason. The two of them fall into step together, and behind everyone is Eric.

He walks slowly, but powerfully.

His arms are behind his back, and he surveys the men and women with mild approval. His stare lingers on some –those who are better, in his opinion—but most don't earn his attention. He observes everything around him with a heavy scrutiny, including his own friends. His stare sweeps over the fence, old and rotting and barely holding up, and lands on the worn walkway it encircles. A few steps later, his gaze returns to the initiates, heavy and calculating as someone yells to make sure CJ is with them.

I have a feeling they're lucky they didn't have him training them.

"What are you doing? You missed the whole lunch!" Sophia bursts my bubble of watching Eric walk like it's the most fascinating thing on Earth, though his gait would be hard to mimic, and she looks concerned. "We couldn't find you and we looked everywhere."

"I saw Jake," I answer, relieved to have a bit of an out. "We talked for a minute and he introduced me to his friends. Then…I saw Eric and he wanted to talk to me. So I went with him."

"What did he want to talk to you about?" Sophia is immediately suspicious, and she should be. Something dawns on her, and her eyes fly open even wider. "Everly, oh my God, is he the older guy?" Her face lights up in triumph. "I knew it! When you walked into him on the pathway….his whole face was like, I can't even describe it."

"It was like what?" I stare back, mildly horrified. The first time I'd met Eric, I'd crashed right into him in the most graceless way possible. I had somehow missed him storming down the pathway, and I'd found myself walking right into his chest.

"Like, he just looked so pleased. First he looked annoyed, but then when he saw you, really saw you, he kind of blinked and didn't let go." Sophia recaps my encounter with Eric in the vaguest way possible. "It was love at first sight."

She smiles, her gaze dreamy as ever, then she shakes her head. "Plus, he keeps coming back. Everyone knows Dauntless hates Amity, especially him. Remember when he was here with Johanna and he threatened to shut down the faction if she didn't comply? And she threatened to get Jeanine involved. He didn't come back for a while, and now he's here all the time."

"He's working," I point out, but it's lost on Sophia.

"Working on showing you he loves you!"

"He's hardly in love with me. He was asking about who I saw the other night. I'm going to see if he'll help me with Landon. I thought maybe he'd know what to do."

"You told him?" Sophia startles, and her whole demeanor changes. Gone is her romantic version of these recent events and now she looks irritated. "Really? Why? He's not going to help you. He's going to lure you in and make you think you have valuable information and when he has what he wants, he'll be done. Even if he is in love"

"What do you think he wants?" I stare at my friend, her face wrought with nervousness, and suddenly her gaze is anywhere but on me. "Sophia! I just…I told him I saw someone and he wants to know who. You think that's all he wants? To know that Landon is screwing around in the forest?"

"No, that's not all he wants," Sophia answers slowly, and she stalls by staring at me like I have three heads. "But we know he's going to take it when he's done here."

"Then what is it?"

"Everly," this time, her words are slow and pointed, and just as strong as when she announced she was going to bust Landon. "He wants you."

I arrive home to chaos.

In hindsight, I should have come back sooner.

After Sophia told me she was so sure Eric's main goal in life was to acquire me, a statement I rebuked because I wasn't stupid enough to believe it was true and it had the faint echoes of Landon deciding we'd just be together, Sophia sat with me while I ate dinner. Courtney joined us; she was huffy I hadn't eaten with them, but once I filled her in –well, really Sophia explained what happened and Courtney shrieked that she didn't know Jake was here, she was fine. She leaned in and whispered Landon was working in the kitchen tonight, and he'd practically thrown her plate at her.

That wasn't shocking.

I would imagine things were tense when you were trying to lead a double life.

I stayed to eat dessert, something sticky and sweet and warm, and I walked home thinking how it was nice to have some time to myself. Even if nothing other than Landon getting in trouble came from this whole Eric thing, at least I was realizing my life was not meant to be someone's babysitter. I wanted to do more than spend my days making sure Zander was entertained, and less feeling like I didn't fit into my own family.

They weren't awful by any means, but I was squished in between being Zander's main form of entertainment and my younger siblings needing more attention than my mother could offer.

Sure, Forrest is around. But he'd been spending more and more time with Willow, and he was barely home. He showed up for a few required meals, stuffed his face, and was gone before anyone could ask too many questions. My mother was busy pretending she was fine, this was fine, everything was fine. She dutifully made dinner after dinner, dessert after dessert, and pretended my father's absence was nothing.

He was serving his faction, and she chose to believe that.

Tonight, he is home.

I can tell, because the minute I step foot inside, the tension is unparalleled.

Zander is there, front and center, building tower after tower in an oddly silent manner. He stacks the blocks slowly, somewhat threateningly, and he watches me with a look of disapproval as I slink past Forrest. His dark hair is a mess, and it's clear someone plunked him down and let him play for a few minutes to keep him occupied.

Behind him, lounging against the wall, is Forrest.

"Did you eat in the Dome?" Forrest demands, chewing on a muffin like he hasn't eaten in days. "We missed you, Squirt."

I nod, glaring at the nickname.

"I ate with Sophia and Courtney," I eye the stairs, wondering if I could sprint past him and make it up there before anyone noticed I was back. "Did you eat here?"

"Uh huh," Forrest looks unenthused, and he ducks his head to my level. "You missed this major argument. Everyone is losing their shit. It's still going on, and fuck, what did I just step on. I think someone's duck pooped in here."

"Duck poop!" Zander parrots, and he ignores the look Forrest throws him.

"Z, pick up your toys. And who even let a duck come in here? I thought we all agreed no more animals. Anyway, dad and mom started talking and Zander brought up his rock collection. He wanted to show dad, but he made the mistake of saying he picked them out with Harrison and things got bad. Real bad. I think Holly might be crying," Forrest swallows the rest of his muffin, and he makes a face. "I'm moving out, by the way. In a week."

"What! Why? No!" I completely ignore the name Harrison, because Forrest moving out is more important. I hate this news more than anything. I hope I've heard him wrong, because in the kitchen, Leif and Wesley are torturing Paisley and Holly as my parents argue in the background. "Where are you moving to? The tree house in the backyard?"

"Funny," Forrest pretends to laugh, and then he turns serious. "I'm proposing to Willow. If she says yes, we can't live here. I applied for one of the small homes a few sections down. I got approved this morning."

"You're leaving me here," I answer darkly, and he knows I'm not thrilled. He nods, and to his credit, he looks guilty. "I'll never get out if you're gone. I'll be stuck helping forever."

"I can't stay here forever, either. Maybe you should marry Landon. At least he won't make you put half the family to bed." Forrest's suggestion is gentle and he means well, but the look on my face tells him just exactly what I think of his idea. "Okay, or not. You can marry someone else. Or maybe you just say you want to go stay with the initiates. Communal living isn't fun, but it's…it might be better for you to get away for a bit."

"I hate you," I shake my head, not meaning it at all. "You're really going to propose?"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it all week. Actually, Landon was the voice of reason. He was like, just do it man. Why wait?"

"I wouldn't take any advice from him," I shudder. "I don't want to marry him so don't ever say that again. If he asks me, after everything he's pulled, I'll punch him in the face. Again."

"Everly Carlen!"

I must have been a little too determined in my desire to never marry the guy who threatened me, because my father is standing in the entryway to the living room, looking visibly disappointed.

It's a look I'm familiar with, but it's mixed with some pretty vibrant anger.

"You punched someone in the face? What's gotten into you?" My father's words are scolding, and he's clearly not impressed with my plan. "Landon mentioned you'd been acting out and to hear you say such a violent thing is worrisome."

"Oh, he said I'm acting out?" I stare at my father, and Landon's plan slowly clicks into place.

I don't know how I missed this before. Landon is going to turn this around on me. He'd already started with my mother, showing up and lamenting about a bruised nose. I would bet he'd hinted it was me and made her promise not to say a word. Next is Mable. He'll drop a few sweet concerns about how I'm being weird, and she'll agree. She'll confirm how I've been acting spacey, leaving early, and am not thrilled to wipe tiny noses.

All that was left was my father, and it was obvious he'd already won him over.

By the time I was done with initiation, I'd either fail, because Mable would be convinced I wasn't committed, or I'd be welcomed as a member but I'd have to prove myself.

And nothing would prove my commitment to the Amity faction more than marrying Landon.

"He attacked me. Did he tell you that?" I stare at my father, waiting for this to sink in and for him to realize who Landon is, but it doesn't come.

Because he knows who Landon is.

"He grabbed me by the arm and…" I stop, and my father crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"You haven't exactly been the model member of Amity these days. Look, initiation is hard. Conflicts come up that aren't so easily dismissed, especially without the peace serum. Your mother and I agreed you should be taking something, even just a minor amount to make it through initiation. Landon came to me and said everyone has noticed your lack of enthusiasm. Do you know what happens if Johanna hears you don't want to be here?"

He stops his lecture to let me change my mind.

I can see it on his face, how he thinks he's doing me a justice by allowing me the opportunity to announce I was wrong.

But I'm not.

I'm also not going to sit around and wait for him to realize I was in trouble here, and so was he.

"Landon hurt me. He grabbed my wrist and threatened to mess with my initiation. Believe who you want."

I take off before my father can say anything, because the hurt is too much. It's too heavy, considering I'd been feeling trapped as it was, and too horrifying to think he believed Landon over me.

I ignore the protests of my mother, not so soft and not so mild, as she hotly demands my father make this right. I ignore Forrest calling my name, Zander crying as his tower crashes over, and Paisley and Holly shrieking that I wasn't lying.

I slam the door shut to my bedroom, and for the first time in years, I lock the door behind me.

This time, I do everything in my power to make sure my initiation is going just beautifully.

I show up early. I cheerfully greet every small child by name, and I sit through the grating small talk from their parents. I feign interest in how they are doing and I wash away my annoyance at the ones who announce their child isn't feeling well, but they have no choice but to drop them off. I help Mable sign them in, I pass out all the buckets we're using to go feed the goats, and I only scowl when I realize I'm going to smell like farm animals for the rest of the day.

I have no choice but to grit my teeth and get through it.

My enthusiasm for all of this wanes by lunch.

My arm is covered in sticky peanut butter and honey, and Holden sits on my lap, pouring his juice all over my skirt. Cody sits by him, and when he wants my attention, he pulls on my hair, effectively matting it together with the jelly he'd been using to paint his plate.

"Oops."

He stares up at me, and I smile back, realizing I'll have no choice but to shower again before meeting up with Eric.

"It's fine. I can wash it out," I force myself to sound cheerful, for no sane person could be excited to do this day in and day out, but Mable is impressed. She seems very happy with the change in my attitude, and even happier when I stay the entire day.

I watch her mark down a few things on her initiation paperwork, similar to my father's but far less rigid, and I know she's pleased. Our initiation is fairly simple: all you had to do was prove you could live here, and exist in peace with the others while learning from one of the main areas that needed help. I wasn't doing anything to prove I couldn't do those things but acting out and fighting with Landon would prove suspect.

So when I see him waiting by the door as I leave, I flash him a wide smile, and this time, I don't protest when he offers to walk me home.

I just make sure Mable sees it.

"So what have you been up to?"

My words are so sweet they hurt.

I hate this, because while I am nice, living in Amity forces you to be nice to those who don't deserve it. In a way, everyone deserves kindness, until they don't. Landon shoving me against a wall and threatening my initiation should be a clear sign he doesn't deserve a second of my time, but I had to be smart.

If Landon was going to play dirty, I could too.

"You look good. Better than the last time I saw you," I keep talking, staying a careful distance away from him, and he finally smiles.

It's genuine.

For a swinging moment, he looks absolutely normal. His long brown hair hangs to his shoulders, in slight waves from being tied back. He's dressed casually; it was likely he spent the morning tending to the livestock, which gave him all the freedom he could ever want.

No one could stop you if you were out walking cows and making sure they stayed within their fenced areas.

They quite often broke through the weak fences, and it took half the faction to corral them back.

But the moment swings back the other way, to the extreme Landon, who's no better than he was when he was hinting he'd ruin my initiation in hopes of coming to my rescue by agreeing to marry me.

"I've been busy. Really busy. Evelyn has me doing a lot. She needs something every day."

"I bet she does," my retort is more sarcastic than I mean it to be, so I smile up at him quickly. "I would imagine building an army is a lot of work."

"Have you reconsidered joining? You could be a big asset, you know. You and your father would have a place with her." Landon offers, and I have to work very hard not to shake my head in a disgusted manner. "Your mom might, but Hank isn't sure how to tell her …but she might agree to it if we're both involved. We could get married soon and then she'd have to agree. She wouldn't want you to be on your own."

"Landon, why do you want to marry me?" I interrupt, and he's immediately irritated I've cut him off. "I just need to know. Is there a reason you're so determined to make this work out in your favor? I know you can ruin everything here for me, so I just want to know why. Why me? You know I don't trust Evelyn or what you're doing. So you want to get married so I can join your weird army and what? Pretend things are great?"

His eyes narrow, and I wait for him to lose his cool.

Instead, he shrugs.

"Landon?"

"You're pretty. That's enough for me."

His words are met with dead silence.

I count the steps in my head until I reach five, and I try to figure out if he's being serious.

"That's…it. You want to marry me because I'm pretty?" I almost stop in my tracks, because the thought hurts when I say it aloud. "Not because I'm really funny or I'm adventurous or I'm really-"

"I guess you could say going against the rules of Amity is adventurous," Landon laughs, but it's mean. "Everly, don't think about it too hard. You're not…most guys here want to marry someone they can build a home with. You can't cook. You can't sew. You don't want to be here. You dislike the meetings and working with the kids and we all know you don't want to drink the peace serum. I get it. Which is why I think you'd like Evelyn."

"I don't like Evelyn and I never will. I think something could change, but what she's doing doesn't feel right." I blurt out, and this is the most honest conversation I feel like Landon and I have ever had. "But…there's nothing else? No other reason you would want me to be your wife?"

His stare meets mine, and it's clear there isn't much more to his decision.

It's not that I want him to want marriage for a slew of good reasons, this just feels really crummy.

"I told you. If it's not me, some asshole from another faction will propose and you'll say yes because you want out. I know you. It'll be easier with me than someone who doesn't understand you. Like I said, you're pretty. We can have some fun, and I'll keep you in line. I'll make sure no one figures out you don't actually want to live here, but you were too scared to pick another faction."

"What if I wasn't pretty?"

The words sound shallow coming from me, and I regret them the minute I say them.

I wasn't blind to what I looked like, but didn't think I was all that pretty. Most of the girls here were taller. Blonder, or their hair lightened in the sun to a brighter color. They didn't downplay their looks in any way, but you could tell they knew they were attractive to the men watching.

I'd never really noticed if anyone looked at me, other than Landon.

"Well, you are pretty. Everyone knows Hank's daughter is good looking, but not interested in anyone here."

"But if I wasn't…" I watch him ignore my question, staring up ahead. "You wouldn't want to marry me. I'd have nothing to offer you then."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Landon answers tightly, and he reverts back to doing Evelyn's work. "Come to the meeting with me tonight. I'll show you what our world could be like. You won't have to worry if you're pretty or not."

"I'm not worried about that. I was just hoping there was more to this than someone finding me attractive," I wrap my arms around myself, regretting my decision to let him walk me home.

Finding out the only reason Landon liked me was because he found me pretty didn't feel good.

Neither does the moment when I wonder what Eric thinks.

Maybe the only reason he was talking to me was because I was decent looking and he knew he could get information out of me.

I suddenly feel very stupid, so much that it hurts to breathe.

"I gotta go. Thank you for walking me home," I speed up once I see my house, and I don't give him the chance to answer me.

He wouldn't anyway.

To him, I was nothing more than something to be won, and to Eric, I was nothing more than an informant.

I decide I'm going to stay home, and request to move into the communal living space.

"Do you want a sandwich?"

This time, Forrest is the only one who notices I'm home.

I yell back no, then add a thanks on the end, and I lean my head back against the rim of the bathtub. I'd come home to almost no one here. My mother and Zander were outside, and everyone else was gone. I said hello, ate a quick snack, and went upstairs to agonize over my decision to not meet Eric. I didn't want him to think I was some moron who would tell him whatever he asked just because he was paying attention to me. The worst part of it was that he was paying attention to me. He was the only one who was listening and the only person to show a fleeting second of concern.

I squeeze my eyes shut when I think about him holding my hand, the feeling so unnatural but perfect, and I go back on my decision to not meet up with him.

It wasn't just that I was hoping he'd hold my hand again, or he'd ask how my day was, but there was a chance he could come find me. I would be putting everyone at risk if he just showed up here, and he would. He knew where I lived. He knew my father's name, and he knew Landon's. It would be easy for him to piece all this together and knock on the door and demand to speak to me.

I'd have no way to fix anything if that was the case.

I sink beneath the bubbles into still too hot water, and I realize I have no choice but to tell Eric what I know.

He's early.

I show up ten minutes before six, and he's already there. He's standing outside the truck, leaning back against the door with an air of disdain, and his expression is unenthusiastic. It stays that way as he eyes my dress –the one I purposely picked out because it fit better than the rest – and it only changes when he opens the door.

"Get in."

He's the pinnacle of charming as he waits impatiently for me to climb into the truck. I hesitate only for a moment, because this isn't what we'd planned. He'd told me we'd meet and go into the woods where Landon had taken me, but this is nowhere near the Dome.

Or the route Landon had dragged me along.

"Wait, I thought we were going-"

He doesn't wait.

His hands find my waist, the feeling familiar now, and he forcibly helps me up onto the high seat.

"We are. Just…not yet."

He slams the door shut and stomps around with the enthusiasm of Zander. Actually, Zander might have more enthusiasm over seeing such a large vehicle, but it makes me smile when Eric glances around to make sure we're alone, and a pleased look crosses his face.

We are.

Everyone in Amity would be at dinner or heading home to make dinner. It was unlikely any of them would be out here, especially since it would be dark soon.

"Did you eat?" Eric asks, but he's gritting his teeth together like this is painful. He relaxes when I shake my head no, and the truck moves before I can figure out we aren't staying here. "I brought dinner. We can eat and then head out to where you saw the factionless. I can't risk showing up while everyone is at the Dome."

"How do you know-" I start to ask, and he glances over at me. He eyes the dress again, then turns back to look at the road.

"The cameras. Amity holds their dinner at the same time every day. Even if only half the faction shows up, that's still too many who aren't there." He drives just as quickly as before, but it's less jarring this time. "We'll go when they head home."

"Won't it be dark?

He glances over at me again, and his amusement is familiar, too.

I fight off the rush of insecurity that I was right in thinking he was only here to get information. He had to think I was stupid; it was unlikely anything stopped him, including darkness.

"Do you like burgers?" he asks with dead seriousness, and I notice he leans toward me. It's slight, but I scoot closer, trying to figure out if I heard him right. "Do you eat meat or just leaves?"

"Just leaves," I laugh, but I find myself more in the middle so I can watch what he's doing. I don't know how to drive any of the trucks, but he makes it look easy. "I can eat meat. I just try not to name the cows while we raise them."

He lets out a huff of laughter, then turns.

Sharply.

So sharply I crash into him.

"Do you eat a lot of meat in Dauntless?" I steady myself back up, but I would much prefer to stay close to him. I wonder if I am stupid, seeking out danger instead of safety. I also wonder what he brought or where he got the food, and I wait until he looks at me again. "Is there serum in the hamburger? Wait, are you drugging me? Am I going to end up high?"

"Yes," he answers mockingly. "Aren't you hilarious? But we don't put our serum in the food. We prefer to inject it right into the bloodstream."

The thought makes me shudder, but I wonder what on Earth they do with it.

"Why?"

Eric pulls the truck over, and he kills the engine before he answers. "It's part of our initiation. Each initiate is injected and then they go through a simulation of their worst fears. They work through them. They're scored on how well they do and how little they panic."

"Did you panic?" I watch him closely, noticing his hair is a little less perfect today, and his uniform jacket is unbuttoned. Not far, just a little, but he's less severe than I've seen him. "Did you get through yours?"

He's silent. He turns to reach behind him, and he procures two plates. They are wrapped up more neatly than mine were, and the food looks entirely different. It looks dark, unlike the bright colors we served. "Here. Eat. And I got through mine just fine. I didn't find it particularly challenging once I knew what we were doing."

"Thank you," I take the plate from him, and my fingers touch his.

He looks down at me, and I look up at him.

"You weren't afraid of the…simulation?" My voice sounds too high, and I cringe. "Or, maybe you were but you just-"

"I wasn't." He sounds bored, but he doesn't look away. "Nothing scares me."

"Not even the food in Amity?"

This time, he smiles.

It's wide and real, not the mocking sneer he liked to throw around.

"Eat your dinner."

"Are you sure you aren't married? This looks like someone professional cooked it." My question comes while I unwrap the dinner. He's brought hamburgers, but they don't look like anything I've seen before. They are larger and bulkier, and almost too large to bite into, but far more luxe than the food we serve.

"No."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I flash back to someone named Ashley calling him. Eric must not appreciate my question, because his stare turns dark. "No?"

"You ask a lot of questions. I don't have time for a wife or girlfriend," he answers sharply. "Not that that would be any concern of yours."

"It's not," I agree, and I pull my feet up like the last time I was in the truck. The cabin is larger and set back, and there's plenty of space for me to turn and look at him. "I was just wondering. Are your friends married?"

"Jason has a girlfriend. They've been dating for years," Eric answers roughly, and he turns to look at me. "NJ just started dating someone. She's tolerable. For the most part. Poor choice of friends, but they can't all be winners."

"What's his real name?" I take a bite of the burger, and it's surprisingly good. "Did you make this?"

"No, but I could if I wanted to." Eric's answer is funny, because he sounds like Zander insisting he can tie his own shoes. "Eat all of it. You need it."

"Okay," I agree, but only because it's going to take me forever to finish it. "Is NJ… is he…one of your friends?"

"They both are. Is Jake one of yours?"

This time, he faces me completely. He kicks his own knee up, and he moves to look at me. "I looked up his scores. They're fairly impressive for someone who transferred from Amity."

"Do they really have to learn to throw knives?" I ask as I swallow down a bite of burger, "Do you know how to throw knives?"

"I do. And yes, they learn a range of skills so they're properly trained for every situation. Some are meant to prepare them to survive under pressure, and some are just to see if they can take orders." He smirks, and his eyes find mine. "Jake takes orders well. So do you."

"Are you saying I'd pass the Dauntless initiation?"

"Hardly." He chews his own dinner with a vengeance, but he must like the idea. "There are few women who chose this time around. Most of the initiates are a foot taller than you. You'd be pummeled into the ground before you knew what was happening. Unless I trained you."

"Oh," I reach for the drink he's brought, and it's sweet. "I thought you didn't train anyone."

"I don't," he confirms, and I smile at him.

For once, he looks almost human. He's sitting in a truck, eating a giant burger, and looking at me.

And he had trained me.

For a few minutes.

"Are you transferring factions, Amity?"

"Maybe I should," I shrug, and the words hurt to say. Perhaps I should have picked a different faction. Dauntless was probably a stretch, though I was starting to think I'd have survived. "But to answer your question, yes, Jake was a friend of mine. I was surprised he left. I thought for sure he'd stay in Amity."

"He's decent. Better than some of them."

We lapse into silence while we eat, and it's not unpleasant by any means. I stay facing him, watching him check his phone every so often. It vibrates constantly, but he never answers.

The last time is a name I don't recognize, and he hits decline immediately.

_Daniel._

Of course, there is nothing in the area Landon had taken me to.

I stand beside Eric in a wave of pure nausea as he glances around. Standing beside me, he is striking. He is tall and menacing, and his gaze sweeps the clearing with militant precision.

"I swear this is it," I half gasp, half whisper the words, and I'm so afraid it feels like I'm choking.

Gone are the people, though I didn't expect them to be here. Gone are the large bins where they'd made fires. There is no burnt firewood. No ashes. No one milling around, waiting for Evelyn. Nothing.

"Eric, I promise this is-"

"They were here not long ago."

Eric shoves past me, and he stops halfway into the clearing. He looks around, then crouches down to touch the ground. A second later, he yanks his phone out of his pocket, and taps at the screen. He waits patiently, until it connects.

His stare doesn't leave the woods. He is perfectly still, until the tiny voice who chirps hello is familiar, echoing into the dark.

"Send a few squads this way, twelve men each. Three miles each direction. It's a mile out from the Dome, but before the river. I want them all armed and prepared to shoot on sight. There are no cameras here, but several on the walk in." He speaks evenly, keeping his tone authoritative. "If possible, have Harrison check on sections nine through fifteen. Send Jason this way."

I watch him stand up, and he's focused on the tree line in front of him.

"Sixteen, as well."

"Eric…"

"They're here. Stay where you are." He commands quietly, and his head cocks to the side. "There are a few up ahead. They're looking right at you."

The horror swells up, all consuming.

"Where?" I gasp, and I step forward by his side. I look at the trees frantically, trying to see if I can spy someone in the woods. It's too dark for me to make anyone out, and I have no clue how Eric knows they're there. "Eric…"

His arm reaches back, and he pushes me behind him. He holds me there until he's sure I'm not moving, then his arm drops. I don't know what he's doing because my view is nothing but the back of his jacket. I stay perfectly still, unmoving as his arm rises and his shoulder tightens, and the gunshot rings out.

Then my head tilts forward to rest against Eric's back, and my eyes screw shut.

"Are you okay?"

This time, his hands find my face.

They are warm; his palms press on each side and he moves my hair out of the way to look at me. The action is rough considering his size, and it reminds me how much larger he is.

"Everly?"

Eric says my name like a secret, so low I almost miss it. I nod my head yes, because my ears are ringing, and my blood is pumping so loudly I think I might pass out.

He'd shot someone.

I didn't see them until they fell to the ground from their perch in the tree. Just like my own descent from the branches, their journey is graceless. It's clear they are dead before they hit the ground, and there was no scream. Only a thud, and another as the others fled.

I'd never seen anything like it.

The branches moved and the trees shook, and the factionless took off. I wasn't sure how he knew this man's life was worth taking, but Eric had shot him dead on, right through the head, with a precision I wasn't sure existed.

"He was armed," Eric justifies his actions without my asking; the look on his face tells me this isn't what he had planned, even though he was trained for it. Our dinner had been nice. Our walk out here had been enjoyable, given where we were going. But all of that is gone with a glimpse of what his life is really like.

It was a shocking contrast to mine.

"He would have killed us if I hadn't shot him. Jason is almost here. They're going to take the body back and-"

"How could you see him?" It is hard to talk, even though I hadn't actually seen him shoot the man. I'd only peeked around after the gunshot, and I caught the tail end of his fall. "How did you know? How did you know he…"

"This is my job," Eric reminds me, but his hands don't move. He keeps them on my face, moving slightly to slide his fingers into my hair. It comes off as almost indulgent for him; his expression is confident, but it wavers when he touches my hair. "I dedicated my life to looking out for the factions. Which includes yours."

"What about the…the Divergents?" I look up. "You're looking for them, too. Was he divergent? Or just factionless? You said-"

I'm rambling.

The words spill out in sloppy horror, because I've never seen anything like this before. I'd seen a few people fight. Amity wasn't immune to a few scuffles or disagreements, but I'd never seen someone shoot another person.

"He'll be tested to see if he was divergent." His answer is pointed; it hints for me to shut up, because he clearly didn't want me to see this part of his life. "The rest of them would have attacked if I hadn't shot him. I have back up on standby in case they did but he was reaching for his weapon and he would have opened fire before the others got here."

"Who?"

I try to glance around, but I can't see anyone.

"Harrison. Jason. Ry-"

"Hey! Fuck, did you see anyone else?"

Jason has the world's worst timing. It wasn't that Eric was about to spill anything crazy, or at least crazier than what I'd just witnessed, but he was close to me. He was staring at me, imploring me not to think he just went around shooting people, and to trust that he didn't.

I know this, because he's so close he's right up against me, and he only pulls away to glare at Jason.

"They ran as soon I shot him. He's armed. Check the gun and run it against our inventory. If it pulls from our database, we'll need to see if anything is missing." Eric orders Jason firmly, but Jason pays no attention to him. "Jason, I said-

"Is she okay?" Jason is appropriately concerned. He eyes me up and down, then looks at Eric. "She looks freaked out."

"No shit. I just shot someone in front of her."

"I thought you two were having dinner. You said- wait, do we get to keep her?!

"Are you all just hanging out without me?" Not Jason appears out of nowhere, and he's got a dozen or so soldiers with him. The area is suddenly filled with members of Dauntless, heading straight into the woods with little concern. "I brought back up. Oh fuck, was she attacked? Is she hurt? Everly are you okay? Can you hear me? EVERLY! Oh fuck, she's not answering. Take her to Arlene. Then you can have her stay for a few days and maybe we could keep her!"

"Rylan, go get the body. We aren't keeping Everly. She's going back home," Eric roars, and I realize Not Jason's name is not even close to NJ. It's Rylan, and he's not moving. "Rylan, the body?"

"Okay, you know what? I was on body duty last time. Have…Bob go check him out. Why do I always have to do the gross work? You go do it. Or is it because you're too busy romancing Everly in hopes that she'll think you're a good guy and.." Rylan stops, mostly because Eric looks like he's going to kill him.

Which was not out of the question.

"I'm alright. I was just really thrown off. I didn't think anyone was out there." I reach up to touch Eric's hand, and he blinks in surprise. "I should go home. I should…um, maybe see if I can find anything else out. Maybe where they're going to meet next time."

I don't know where that comes from. It's pulled from a strange place of my own bravery, and it sounds convincing.

Rylan stares and so does Jason.

"Can I ask you something? Before Eric takes you home?" Rylan tilts his head, and his eyes fall to my hands on Eric's. Eric notices, because he drops his hands away immediately. "What does NJ stand for? I've been thinking about this since you said it, and I can't figure it out. The best I can come up with is Nina Jam."

"Rylan…the body…" Eric hisses, but Rylan ignores him.

Their friendship must run deep, because Rylan isn't afraid of Eric.

"I just need to know. Christina and I tried to figure it out but she said it was probably something like Not Jealous or Notorious Jaguar, which by the way, Harrison claims to have seen one in these woods."

"It stands for Not Jason," I inform him, wincing at his immediate disbelief. "I only knew Jason's name and you were with him, but I didn't know yours, so I named you Not Jason."

"Not Jason," Rylan answers flatly, and the insult is strong. "You were referring to me as the person who is not Jason. Really? Really, Everly? After all we've been through…"

"Is no one gonna go look at the body? Should I just go over there?" Jason pipes up. He waits for an answer, and when no one says anything, he sighs. "I guess I will."

"I'm sorry," I have to say, I feel a little crazy, because I want to laugh. He looks so put out, like this nickname was so important, only to have discovered it meant he wasn't his friend. "I just…maybe it can stand for something else. Or I could give you new one!"

His eyes light up immediately.

"I approve of that plan. Eric, take her back to Dauntless!"

"I'm not taking her back to Dauntless. I'm taking her back to her house. Where she will be quiet, and not mention what she saw tonight. Right?" Eric looks at me, and he's back in his full Leader of Dauntless persona. He pulls his shoulders back, stands up straight, and barks this command like I was going to go home and announce I'd watched him shoot someone in our forest. "Amity?"

I agree immediately, because now, I really am in this too deep to get out.

"So um, thank you for dinner."

My words are amazing.

They float over both of us, into the dark sky, and up to the few stars that are out. Eric glances over at me like I've personally wronged him, but the look softens as he remembers we did, in fact, eat dinner together.

Despite all the commotion from the evening, it was a pretty nice night.

But it's probably not what Eric expects me to say.

"I had a good time," I bump into him on accident, where the path narrows, and he doesn't shove me away. He steadies me and keeps his arm near mine. "It was very…exciting. Is that how all your dates in Dauntless end? With someone getting shot?"

"It wasn't a date, Amity." He hisses, and I find him oddly charming.

Because his hissing isn't for my benefit, it's for his.

"Remember, you keep this quiet. If you can find out where the others are meeting, you let me know asap." He slows down his walk when my house comes into view, and I notice he shares my reluctance. "Don't do anything crazy, either."

"How will I get a hold of you? I don't have a phone," I remind him, and I hate that we are already here.

Our night came to a grinding halt once the seriousness of it all sank in. Once Jason went to examine the body, there was a sudden burst of swearing. Eric had been right. The man was armed. His gun was a dark grey, and once Jason read the very tiny serial number, there was more swearing.

It was one of theirs.

The woods came alive as the soldiers tramped through them, frantically searching for whoever was out there. Eric and Rylan explained their connection to the factionless wasn't a strong argument. They were assuming whoever was meeting out here was factionless rather than divergent, and they were hoping they proved to be both. If they could prove these factionless were forming an army, they had leeway to take care of them as needed.

Their only hesitation –which came more from Jason and Not Jason but now Rylan –was proving any of this. So far, they had my word, a man, a gun from their own faction, and several cameras someone had turned off. I watched as the soldiers returned with other things: a knife, someone's boot, some string, and a syringe. Eric blinked at each item, ordered the evidence to be placed in a truck, and asked where Harrison was.

He was nowhere.

Someone insisted they hadn't seen him, and someone else said they had. It didn't really matter. Eric declared he and I were going back to the truck, and he drove me home. He parked by the Dome, threw the door open, and announced he'd walk me home. It was kind of him, but more necessary than anything. Since being in the clearing, I was on edge. I had the strange feeling this factionless war was bigger than I could ever imagine, and Eric was right in the middle of it all.

Our walk was quiet, though every so often an animal neighed or quacked or chirped. Eric looked on in sheer horror as a few of May's ducks waddled past, then turned around and walked right back between his feet. They followed us for a few steps, ignoring the angry scowl he was throwing them, and one in particular seemed to really like him.

The sight was funny, until I realized I was home, and he was leaving.

"I'll find a way to get a hold of you. Since you seem to know more than most," Eric mutters, and he watches me step up on the first step of the porch stairs. I'm still nowhere near his height, and he tilts his head down like he's just realized this. "I'm in Erudite tomorrow. Candor the next day. I'll try to come by Saturday or Sunday. If anything crazy happens…try to find Johanna. At the very least, you can ask to contact Dauntless and it'll get passed on to me."

"Okay," I agree easily, even though Saturday or Sunday seemed incredibly far away. "How crazy are we talking? Like if someone else falls out of a tree again? Or if someone tries to kill me? If I find out you stole one of May's ducks…"

For the second time tonight, Eric smiles.

It's wide and slick, and he shakes his head. He moves closer, his boots hitting the step and his head tilted at me, and he smiles even wider when I tilt my head up at him. He reaches out to fix my dress, carefully pulling the fabric back up and in place, and his eyes meet mine.

His fingers linger there, in no real hurry to leave.

"Out of all the things I could possibly steal from Amity, a duck is hardly the one I'd choose."


	9. Forrest and Willow's Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!

Willow matches her name.

She stands next to my brother, half his size but a few inches shorter than him, and she's sort of skittish. Her eyes sweep over everything in our home with a sort of awe; she stares at our family, all of us lined up in height order, like some weird cult brought out to meet our newest sacrifice, the large wood beams that run across the ceilings, the sprawling layout with more rooms and turns and hallways meant to give some sense of space in such a large family, and the plants.

The plants that are everywhere, a green reminder of what our father does.

She looks at the fireplace, burning brightly under the watchful eye of Zander, and the rugs. The chairs. The sofa where a younger, but not much younger, Forrest cracked his head after leaping off it, and the end table which split his face open.

She smiles, dreamily, her long blonde hair braided into a complicated looking pattern, and her dress too short. It's pinkish, an unappealing coral version, and it looks like she's had it for a while. She mostly smiles at me, assuming we're close in age, and I have the sinking feeling she was factionless.

Or is.

But she won't be for long.

Forrest stands beside her looking proud as ever. His shirt matches hers, and I smirk at the thought that they'd already started dressing alike. Married couples here often started to wear the same colors, because the fabric could be used for both. Men weren't afraid of wearing any of the bright colors, nor did they blink if someone handed them a pastel colored shirt and told them they'd made it.

It was quite the opposite of Eric's dark uniform. So far, I'd only seen him wear black. With his jacket unbuttoned, I was able to catch the tiniest glimpse of his shirt beneath it, and it was also black. I would bet his whole life was black. I liked to imagine his apartment was black, the walls painted so dark it was like walking into outer space, and so quiet that it would feel like it, too.

Willow doesn't have an ounce of darkness on her.

In fact, when she looks up at my brother, it's pretty vomit inducing. She likes him way more than anyone else I've ever seen him bring around, and this is saying something. He has plenty of girls who would have committed some dark acts to date him, though they never won his attention for very long.

But she has.

"This is Willow."

Forrest introduces her cheerfully, but his tone tells me that if anyone doesn't like her, he'll kill them. Well, maybe not kill them, but he won't be happy. He stares at all of us expectantly, and Zander is the first one to greet her.

He leaves his perch by the fireplace to wander over, and he eyes her up and down.

The scrutiny would be cute, except his stare is pretty judgmental for such a small child.

Zander reaches for her hand and examines her fingers, then her sleeve. He must approve, because when he's done, he smiles widely.

"Willow! Take Zander outside."

She startles for a moment, then figures out she's won him over by simply standing there. She has no clue he likes anyone he thinks will do his bidding, and she is a fresh victim for him. He holds onto her hand tightly and turns to face the rest of us.

"Outside."

"Zander, we aren't going outside right now." My mother answers him first, looking oddly tired. The exhaustion is clear in her posture, but she smiles brightly, and does her best to ignore it. "It's really nice to meet you, Willow. We've heard…" She pauses, and Leif snickers. "a lot about you."

"More like nothing about you," he mutters, and Wesley high fives him.

"Knock it off. Willow is a guest here and we aren't rude to guests. Or anyone." My father reminds them, but they cackle like they've told the most hilarious joke ever. "We're very happy Forrest brought you to dinner. We've been looking forward to getting to know you."

"Oh, you'll get to know her," Forrest grins, and his glance over at me is fleeting. "We're getting married Saturday. We wanted to tell you in person."

He's met with a round of silence, except for Zander, demanding to go outside again.

"Willow! I said, take me outside!"

"This…this Saturday? Two days from now?" My mother blinks, and I can see her mind racing with all the things she'll have to do. Weddings in Amity are a huge deal, and he is giving her almost no notice to throw something together. "Forrest, that's…that's so soon. Where are you going to get married? Did you order anything? Have you…where will you be living?"

Her eyes glaze over as she speaks, glancing around like she's going to have to find a space for Willow to live.

Judging by Willow's size, she could live anywhere and blend right in.

"I'm actually moving tomorrow. Willow and I were approved for a home a few houses away. She's going to take a job with Johanna and I uh, I'm going to open the brewery. The soldiers have been here daily, and I'm thinking…it could be cool. Maybe a fun place to hang out. Maybe it'll change their opinion of us."

"Yeah, beer from Amity. That'll definitely make them think you're cool," Holly responds, and she doesn't miss the look from our father. "Sorry, Forrest. Congratulations. Are you having a normal wedding? Are we in the wedding? I don't have a dress!"

"You have tons of dresses," my mother reassures her, and her expression freezes when she looks at me. "Forrest, what about waiting a few more days? Or…a week?"

"Maybe after dinner?" Wesley laughs, and this time, my father's stern look goes over his head. "Or right now. I'm free."

"You know what? You're right. Let's do it. Let's have a big party! We can throw it all together in a day or two." Forrest's eyes light up and beside him, Willow looks nervous.

"A big party? I don't…I don't know…" Her voice is quiet, and she reaches for his hand. He takes it immediately, and nods reassuringly.

"We can invite your parents. It'll be fine. I promise."

"Where are you from? Do you live nearby?" My mother is just as curious as I am, and she's no longer looking overwhelmed at the news, but ready to accept the challenge of hosting a wedding on short notice. "Have we met your family?"

Willow leans into my brother. Her eyes move to my father, staying there for just a moment, then she shakes her head no.

"We aren't…we live on the very edge of Amity. I don't think you've met them."

"The edge of Amity?" My mother looks confused, but she doesn't get very far.

Both my father and Forrest start talking, announcing they'll need to send out invitations as soon as possible to the community. Willow looks grateful for this distraction, and she sticks by my brother's side and follows him to the backyard to see whatever my father is about to show them.

Zander follows them, too, happy and content with the newest member of the family.

The only person who looks hesitant is my mother, and I feel a speck of sympathy as everyone files past her, looking concerned as ever.

"Have you seen him lately? The guy with the hair?"

I turn to Holly and Paisley, and they're both vying to get closer to me. I'd graciously volunteered to wash the dishes after dinner, and they crowd around the sink, handing me plates and bowls and trying to talk quietly.

Dinner was weird.

I got to witness my brother being sickly in love with a girl we'd never even seen before. I think my father might have met her, because he asked a whopping zero questions. My mother asked more than enough, gently trying to pry information out of Willow like it was her job. She wasn't subtle, but she was kind. She served her enough food to feed a whole family, and we all watched while Willow ate. It wasn't entirely fascinating, but it was telling.

Wesley and Leif scarfed their food down and split, and Holly and Paisley tried to distract Zander but they also ate quickly. My father didn't touch his dinner as much as one would think. My mother ate a few bites, but it was like she was trying to solve a mystery, and she only stopped when my father insisted she eat her dinner before it got cold.

All in all, the Carlen family was very welcoming. Willow was harmless; she stuck close to my brother, was polite and sweet and seemed incredibly enthused to marry him. She kept looking around like she'd never seen such a home before, and she even let Zander sit with her. His affection shifted between really liking her –trying to feed her only orange noodles—and trying to trick her into going outside.

She and my brother left with my parents to go talk with the neighbors again, something about borrowing their truck, and Zander managed to tag along. I volunteered to stay behind, hugging both Forrest and Willow goodbye, and hissing that he owed me an explanation when I saw him next. I figured I'd wash the dishes and go to bed, because it was a great distraction from thinking about Eric.

The arrival of my soon to be sister-in-law was a good distraction, but really, I should be freaked out.

Not all that long ago, I'd watched Eric skillfully shoot someone out of a tree.

Violence, especially taking the life of someone, was horrifically frowned upon. Our most major disagreements were settled by both parties being injected with a little more peace serum than normal, and discussing the situation until they reached an agreement. Violence wasn't tolerated at all; if the person didn't have a fantastic reason for it –imminent danger, a threat to their own life, or the safety of the faction –there were rumors you wouldn't stay here. Of course, there were disagreements. People didn't always agree on everything, and sometimes, not even a permanently happy mood could force them to.

Eric most certainly didn't fit in here.

I wondered if that was why I liked him.

My crush on him was starting to slip from superficial, thinking he was attractive in his uniform and handsome with his blonde hair and grey eyes, to really liking him. I knew I shouldn't; he'd given me no real reason to. He was impatient and intimidating, and he was here to hunt down those he believed didn't fit into the factions. He'd all but shown me he could kill me if he wanted to, and not a soul would know.

But he was patient when he was with me. We'd eaten lunch and dinner together, and he'd gone out of his way to come here both times. He'd been honest in telling me he shouldn't be here, and he wanted me to trust him.

But the thing I liked about him the most, not just that he seemed to enjoy my company beyond just someone who had taken him to where the factionless were, was that he was unapologetically who he was, and he accepted who I was. If he were from here, he'd have told me to seek out a mediator for my run in with Landon. He'd encourage me to find some understanding for what Landon was doing or forgive him without any expectations.

Eric had shown me how to punch him in the face.

He was strong and steadfast with his beliefs, but he seemed determined to make sure I wasn't scared of him. His words from the other night made me believe he was coming back just to see me, on his own terms.

Which conveniently is what Holly and Paisley are bugging me about.

"Did I see who? Landon?"

"No, not him, though I know he grabbed you," Holly keeps one eye on me, and one on the back door. "We saw him while we were walking. He was mumbling to himself after you took off. He looked pissed."

"Dad still doesn't believe me," I answer, though I shouldn't be bringing that up. "I don't know why. I know he's friends with Jerry, but I didn't make it up. Landon will hurt me and no one here believes me."

"We believe you," Paisley nods, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "He stole some jam from here the other day. Mom was planning on taking it to the neighbors and he lifted it right off the counter when she wasn't looking. She'd worked on it all morning."

"Seriously?" I find myself stunned, because thievery was pretty low, even for Landon. "Mom would give him jam if he asked. She'd probably make him a whole case."

"Does Eric know about Landon?" Holly says his name with emphasis, but not in a sing-song voice. She smiles when I look at her, and her expression is smug. "I saw him on the steps. I thought he was going to take you with him."

I pause, one hand on the glass I'm washing, and I can't answer her.

Sophia had mentioned this, too.

She was convinced the one thing Eric was here for was me, but I wasn't totally sure she was right. Last night made me think she could be a little bit right.

This should have made me nervous, and instead, all I wanted was for him to come back.

"I told him about Landon," I confess, and in the moment, the dread is real that one of them will spill this to our parents. "You can't say anything, please. I think…I'm hoping Eric is going to help me figure out what's going on. Or make him stay away."

"Eric is going to help you?" Holly isn't convinced, but she likes the idea of Eric too much to let it bother her. "Paisley and I think Landon is doing something bad. He yelled at us the other day. We told Dad and he said to forget about it."

"Why did he yell at you?" I rinse the glass off, and I set it on the rack to dry. "Holly? Paisley?"

They both are silent. Holly chews on her lip, and Paisley stalls by examining Zander's airplane fork.

"Was he mad at you?"

"We saw him coming out of the woods with some guy. Some guy not from here!" Paisley finally blurts out, and her eyes are wide with worry. "We called out his name and he told us to go home. We followed them down the pathway, and when he realized we were behind him, he snapped. The guy he was with didn't say anything."

She stops talking, and I wonder if it was Tobias, or someone else. It didn't really matter who Landon was walking with, but that my sisters recognized they weren't from here.

"Stay away from Landon. Promise me. Just…do your best not to bug him and I'll take care of him, okay?"

"You mean, Eric will take care of him?" Holly reverts back to her cheerful demeanor from before. "If he kidnaps you, can we come visit Dauntless? Will you invite us?"

"He's not….he's not going to kidnap me," I hiss, but I realize the likelihood of this must be greater than I was thinking. Though how he would ever explain his actions is beyond me. "He said he's coming back in a few days. If you're nice, maybe…I could introduce you. But only if you stay away from Landon."

My offer is tempting because they both agree immediately.

"Deal. We want to see him up close, too. He's very…large, Everly. Much too large for you. But we like his hair. And I bet he can run fast."

I roll my eyes as they giggle, and they both look like Willow, swooning over the Dauntless soldier with a different haircut than they were used to seeing. They keep giggling, whispering to each other, until I'm done, and Paisley announces I should invite him to the wedding.

I shake my head no, because the last thing Eric would want to see was an Amity wedding.

A day later, I figure out the man Holly and Paisley saw is not Tobias.

Tobias is there, walking along like he'd like to be anywhere else but here, with Landon and their newest companion. The guy is large; hulking and strong looking but mean. His lips toy with a cruel smile, and his dark clothes would make one assume he's from Dauntless. He reminds me faintly of Eric with the way he oozes authority, and every so often, he purposely steps close to them, just to make them move out of his way.

I watch from the top of a haystack, with Cody and Holden on my lap, as they head toward the Dome. They don't pay any attention to us, but I don't expect them to. Our area is swarming with farmers here to pick up hay for their own animals. Cody and Holden had asked me to climb to the very top with them, so I did. Now, I sit at the highest point of a scratchy hay castle, listening to the men and women come to take bales home with them.

"Can they see us?"

Holden tugs on my sleeve, pointing to Landon and his friends, but I shake my head. They could if they were looking this way, but they aren't. They are walking quickly and confidently, striding past the swarming group of Amity. I would imagine Landon would be trying to hide his friends who aren't from here, but they don't seem worried.

At least, two of them don't.

Tobias looks around a few times, and he keeps his hands in his pockets. His stare usually winds up in the trees, squinted and unsure and very unhappy. As they get closer, I can see he's not dressed in black, but dark green. His boots are scuffed and dirty, and he's uncomfortable enough that it makes it look like he's wearing a disguise.

He tilts his head up when they pass by a low hanging branch, and the ancient, long rotten camera sits crookedly. It had been there for years, forgotten after seasons of rain and snow, and now sits broken. Johanna appeared to be in no hurry to replace it.

Or any of them.

Eric said Dauntless was working to fix the cameras, and my stomach tightens, because my guess is most of them here don't work.

Landon must know this, too.

He cheerfully watches his newest friend reach up and whack the camera out of the tree. It flies forward, landing in the dirt path with a thud, and they all laugh when it shatters apart.

Except for Tobias.

He frowns, his face darkening in annoyance, and he very sternly tells Colton to knock it off.

"You look lovely."

My mother hovers in front of me, fixing my hair for the millionth time. She smooths down a few pieces, fluffs up a few pieces, and when she's satisfied, she finally lets go.

"Do you like it?"

"Um, yes, it looks great." I lie brightly, knowing better than to risk ruining her day. She smiles back, not believing me at all, and her eyes narrow. "I swear. You did a great job."

"I know you don't want to wear any of this, but…it's Willow's wedding day and she asked that you be part of her wedding." My mom steps away and turns to stare in horror as Paisley undoes her hair completely. "No! Paisley, we have to leave soon!"

"Okay, but it's crooked!" Paisley shrieks, and I close my eyes, leaning back against the vanity table. I'd been sitting here for over an hour now, helping everyone get dressed and hoping I would escape having to dress in matching outfits for the wedding.

It was a lost cause; Willow had stopped by this morning to announce she hoped everyone would wear yellow, and then whispered I could wear whatever color I wanted. It was even more of a lost cause when Paisley and Holly found out I wasn't wearing yellow, and decided they weren't either.

It spiraled further out of control when my mother set the flowers down and reminded me I only had twenty minutes to get ready.

"Everly's looks fine! Mine looked ugly!"

"No, it didn't!" Our mother promises her, her own hair perfectly wavy and pretty and artfully pinned back. "Everly, can you-"

"I'll fix hers," I offer, and I gesture for Paisley to come over to me. Ever since Forrest announced he was getting married, she and Holly had been dying to be in the wedding. That changed when Wesley let it slip Paisley had a sort of boyfriend, and I realized she'd rather die than show up with crooked hair in case he was there.

Which he would be.

The whole faction would.

"Here, sit down. I can braid it."

Paisley looks at me desperately, and I gesture for her to sit on the floor. She listens, and ten minutes later, her hair is braided out of the way, and I carefully add in the flowers –one by one – until they form a crown throughout her hair. This was easier than weaving or gluing them together, and I make sure they are full and bright and teenage boy approved.

"There. You look really pretty. Like…Rapunzel." I offer, and Zander watches from the bed, upside down. "What do you think, Zander?"

"No. Like Ursula."

"WHAT!?" Paisley's yelp hurts my head, and she shoots Zander a death glare. "Are you serious right now?"

"Sea witch," he mumbles, looking strangely tired. He rolls over, and I realize he's about to fall asleep. This might fare better for Forrest and Willow if Zander wasn't awake for their wedding, because he was bound to insert himself into the ceremony somehow. "Fish face."

"EVERLY!"

"Calm down, you don't look like any of those things," I reassure her, and it's my turn to yelp when my mother takes hold of my hair, and I feel her stick the first flower in. "Mom, no."

"Yes," she answers so slickly it's like she knew I would protest. "Just for an hour or so. Once they're married, you can take them out. We want to make a good impression."

"I'm sure our neighbors won't care if I have flowers in my hair or not," I groan, feeling the strange pull of disliking Amity more and more. I know where it's coming from, and that reason is named Eric. "They take forever to get out."

"I'll help you after the wedding. I want Willow to feel like she's welcome. I'm sure you do, too."

"Fine," I sigh, realizing I could suck this up for a few hours. I was being a little too dramatic given I lived here and had chosen this faction. Plus, this was Willow and my brother's wedding day, and the very least I could do was be happy for them.

And I was.

Forrest had stopped by this morning, looking cleaner and happier than I'd ever seen him. His happiness was worth a few flower petals getting tangled in my hair, and I wasn't willing to ruin his day over something so trivial.

I give in, and by the time my mother is done, my hair matches Paisley's. The flowers are twisted deep into my dark hair, stark against the color and neatly arranged to create a crown. It's set back further than Paisley's, and I can't help but feel very much like the trapped princess in Zander's story he'd been reading, and I didn't mean Ursula.

I stare at my reflection for another moment, but I just can't bring myself to smile.

I do smile a few hours later.

Forrest and Willow's wedding is in full swing, and by the time they're declared husband and wife, I can't help but grin at how much they love each other. Everyone who has shown up shares my sentiments; most are smiling widely, thrilled to have a new family in the community, and quite a few are sniffling. Even Willow's family looks pretty teary eyed, and to my surprise, it's only her and her parents.

They stand near mine, careful and cautious, but completely normal.

"Over?" Zander whispers, half asleep and not quite awake.

He'd slept through the entire ceremony, waking up long enough to protest anyone trying to pry him away from me. He shook his head, scowled, and clamped his arms around my neck even tighter. I told my mom it was fine; I sat down with him next to Sophia and Courtney, and we watched as Forrest vowed to protect Willow from anything and everything. It was a gross sentiment, but it sparked a flash of nerves because he had reasons to mean it.

My fear died down by the time he kissed her, and the real party started.

I had to admit my parents had done a great job of getting everything ready on short notice. Willow's family had helped them, and really, when it came down to it, it was my mother who planned it all out. The faction came together to decorate and set up the bonfires, and the kitchens had been busy all day with their wedding menu.

Everyone contributed whole heartedly. Not a single person was put out with being asked to help, and even Courtney and Sophia helped string up lights, set up tables, and pick flowers. Their dresses matched mine, and their hair did, too. They both looked close to crying when Forrest walked back down the aisle with Willow, and Sophia whispered it wouldn't be long before I had a niece or nephew.

Which was just what my family needed.

"It's over. Are you ready to eat?"

Zander opens one eye when I inform him the ceremony is done. We were some of the few people still sitting down. My parents were over talking with Willow's, Landon was busy helping serve the dinner, and the rest of the faction was milling around. Some were taking seats, some were talking with Johanna –appearing out of nowhere and suspiciously quiet -and some were walking around offering up drinks. I graciously accept a glass of something from one, and I choke down a sugary sip before Zander sits up.

"Everly, outside."

"We are outside," I remind him, and I turn to look at Sophia. She's sitting close to me, and her eyes are glued to Landon. "Sophia, what are you looking at?"

"Landon. He keeps looking in the woods," she answers lowly, and when he looks over at us, he smiles. It's passably nice, but I know better. "I think Dauntless sent some people to see what was going on. My dad said…" she pauses and leans in closer so only I can hear her. "He told me some of them work in Erudite. He dropped off a delivery to one of the labs, and the Dauntless soldiers were there."

"Which ones?" My attention moves between her and woods, but I see nothing. "Did he know who they were?"

"He doesn't know any of them. He said they were hanging around where the deliveries are dropped off. None of them spoke to him, except a few who asked if he had more deliveries. He said to watch out. That he thinks they're coming here to-"

"Harrison!"

Zander sits up so fast I nearly spill my drink. I was grateful for him as a distraction so I didn't have to sit so far up front or stand up and give a speech about how happy I am for them. But now, I swear, loudly, when he kicks me in his struggle to get off my lap.

"Harrison!"

"Who's Harrison?" Sophia follows Zander's excited yelling, but she doesn't get to look for long. Her parents appear and invite us to come sit with them. "Sure. You want to come, Everly? Zander? There's cake?"

"No! In the woods! Everly!" Zander's tiny voice is insistent, and I give in. It was unlikely anyone from Dauntless had shown up to watch the wedding, but maybe Zander had seen someone. At the very least, it would be a quick walk, and he'd be pacified enough to eat dinner and sit in his seat.

"We'll be right back. We're going to go walk over there. Will you save us seats?" I look at Sophia, and she nods.

"I swear to God, if Eric is waiting in the woods for you, and you don't come back and tell me every detail, I'll kill you."

She whispers her threat sweetly, and I do my best not to laugh.

"Deal."

She watches me take off with Zander, enthusiastically pulling on my hand and jumping up and down, and she doesn't turn around until we step into the woods.

There is no one.

I share in Zander's disappointment, and he sighs heavily, glancing around the empty woods.

"No Harrison."

"Sorry, Zander. I don't see anyone." My words are just as heavy as his, because I was sort of hoping he was here. If he was, there was a slim chance Eric would be with him.

And, in a very strange way, I wanted to see Harrison, too.

I liked that he was so patient with Zander, and I wanted to ask if he'd met him before. I couldn't shake the image of them together, looking startlingly alike, searching for rocks in the lake.

"We should go back. They're probably waiting for us," I take his hand in mine, and for once, Zander doesn't argue.

We leave the woods together, silent and quiet, and every so often, he glances back over his shoulder, and sighs.

Heavily.

I see him by the time I finish my cake.

It's sugary and pretty. Sophia's mom was one of our better bakers, and more often than not, she made every celebration cake. Today was no exception. She had worked her magic to create a towering gold masterpiece of sparkling frosting and decorated it with fresh flowers. It tasted as good as it looked, and Sophia happily told me she'd gotten to help.

But I can't answer her, because my stare is stuck over her shoulder. My seat faces a section of forest that dips in and out, daring to creep into the faction. All of our parties were held here, because it was one of the prettiest areas we had.

But I'm not looking at any of that.

All I can focus on is one of the trees further back, with long branches that bow down to touch the ground.

Standing there, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed and a look of disgust, is Eric.

"Did someone die?"

Leave it to Eric to suck the romance right out of a wedding celebration.

He eyes everything on me with suspicious interest, but he keeps going back to the flowers my mother had stuck in my hair. I regret not ripping them out the first chance I could, but I'd completely forgotten they were in there.

"My brother got married today," I go back and forth over the quick idea of inviting him to sit down with Sophia and me. Courtney was off flirting with one of the farmers, a young guy a few years older than us but with a questionable haircut, and Sophia had all but pushed me into the woods. She'd hissed she'd watch Zander, an incredibly selfless act considering he'd had three pieces of cake was currently gunning for his fourth, and told me to go see what Eric was doing.

When I glance back at the party, half hidden and half visible through the sprawl of branches, and I see someone wandering by with a banjo, I decide it's safer if Eric stays here.

"Do you want to meet him?" I ask Eric because I don't know what else to say. He'd told me he was coming back, and I was happy he had, but he'd picked the worst day to show up. I might have been able to pass off my bravery as something appealing to him, but it would surely be soured by the overzealous amount of flowers and people giddily excited for the band to start. "I could introduce you."

"No thank you." Eric's answer is flat, and he uncrosses his arms with great effort. "I have no interest in imposing upon such an event."

He looks down at me again, then over me.

"I got called here to check on a few things and heard the commotion. Does your entire faction always leave itself vulnerable to attack in favor of having such a party?"

"It is a wedding," I answer slowly, and he doesn't like this. "Do you have weddings in Dauntless?"

"No, we do not." He answers joylessly, and he's more uptight than ever. I have the sudden urge to retreat, because it's clear he doesn't like me as much as I hoped he did. "Landon appeared on the cameras a few days ago. Did you find out anything else?"

"No," I shake my head, and the sharp contrast between us becomes a little brighter.

Standing in front of him in a pink dress, I was from Amity. I was one of the ones covered in flowers and frosting and inviting whoever wanted to attack us to come attack. Our faction was wide open. I was too busy relishing in the warm wedding vibes to think otherwise, and I had no further information regarding anyone.

Eric is here on work. His uniform is rich and well-tailored, and he is here to find out what was going on. It wouldn't be out of the question for him to hunt down someone he wanted to test, because he is actively watching the faction, while we spent our time drinking sweet wine and indulging in overly sweet cake.

I didn't fit into his world the way I thought I did.

"He's stayed away from me since-"

"Since when?" Eric cuts me off, and he steps closer. He leaves his post at the tree, and this time, I notice his jacket is buttoned all the way up.

"Since I asked him why he wanted to marry me." I answer without thinking, and once again, Eric doesn't like my answer. He clenches his jaw, and his expression tightens. "He said the only reason he wants to marry me is because he thinks I'm pretty. Nothing else."

"Did you want him to have other reasons?" It's hard to miss the exasperation in his voice, and before I can blink, he's right in front of me.

"No but imagine someone telling you the only reason they liked you was because they found you attractive." I pause when he moves around me, and I step back. I realize the truck is parked a few feet away, and I take another slow step back toward it as Eric walks toward me. His posture is intimidating, almost predatory when he doesn't look away. "He didn't even have anything else. He laughed when I said I was brave and…"

I suddenly realize why Eric is so good at his job.

He's making me nervous with the way he's looking at me. His expression is total concentration and irritation. He barely blinks, heading right for me, and I wonder if this was the last thing people saw before he killed them.

"Are you going to marry him?"

"No," I look up when my back hits the truck, and Eric stops. "I told my dad what happened but he didn't believe me. He said I'm the one acting out. Landon has been telling everyone I'm not happy here. He said he could ruin my initiation."

"He's smart," Eric answers lowly, and he reaches for me. His fingers touch my hair, but rather than rip my head off, he pulls out a flower. "He's turning them against you. He's got a good relationship with your father. He knows how to use things to his advantage. It's fairly impressive if you look at it that way."

When I don't answer him, his fingers move to the next flower, deftly tugging it out. He narrows his eyes when it tangles in a few of the loose strands, but ultimately, he's victorious.

He tosses it aside without looking.

"Does your father want you to marry him?"

"Yes."

He doesn't like this answer, either.

I'd had high hopes for seeing him again, but instead, it seems like tonight will not end well.

"Don't."

He isn't in any hurry. Eric is unphased by time or the fact that our entire faction is celebrating steps away. Anyone could wander over here, though it would take them a moment to spy his truck. He keeps working, standing so close I can feel him breathing, and he undoes my mother's hard work with great ease. When he's done, the flowers strewn all over the forest floor and my hair a mess, he smooths it out.

The action is absurd; this giant man from Dauntless is fixing my hair, carefully positioning it back to normal.

"You don't like the flowers?" I watch him carefully, noticing the slightest flash of something cross his face. He smiles, distracted at best, and shakes his head.

"Flower crowns aren't really my thing."

"What is your thing?" Bravery wins out over anything else, because out of everyone I knew, Eric was the only one who I was hoping saw something more than just my looks. If he was here just to get information or he was bored with searching for Divergents and he thought I had this information, I would be devastated. Worse than Landon announcing I had no real redeeming qualities as a wife, let alone a person. Worse than my father not believing me. Worse than the look on Zander's face when he realized Harrison wasn't here. "Hanging out in the woods?"

"I guess it is now," he falls silent when I touch his jacket, and I tilt my head. The buttons are different than what my mother used. These are tight and stiffly sewn and it takes effort to unbutton the top one. "What the fuck are you doing?"

There is no violence in his words.

If anything, he sounds amused, and when I look up, his eyes are on me.

"Are you trying to undress me, Amity?"

"What do you wear under your jacket?" Success is mine as I move to the second button, and he smirks.

"A shirt."

"Do you think I'm pretty? Is that why you're here? Am I just some dumb girl from Amity who's telling you what you want to hear?" My fingers move to the third button, and his fingers slide down. They find another flower, stuck deep underneath, and he moves his head to the side as he examines this one. "I don't want you to be nice to me just because you think I can help you find who you're looking for."

"You've hardly told me what I want to hear and I'm not nice. Ever." he answers roughly, and his hands return to me. They find my waist as he moves closer, and he stares at me intently. "But I don't think you're dumb at all. In fact, I think you're too smart to be here. Too smart to be this close to me."

"Why?" I look up at him, and I want him to drop his head down to mine. It takes him a second, but he eventually does. "Eric, you have to help me. What do I do if my dad doesn't believe me and Landon is helping the factionless and no one will listen?"

One of his hands moves to my face.

By now, his touch is familiar. I'm not afraid of him, and I wasn't even really afraid before. He promised he wouldn't hurt me, and though he could be lying, I don't think he is. I think he genuinely doesn't want me to fear him, which is absurd.

According to Landon, I had absolutely nothing to offer to anyone.

"Are you positive he's helping them?" His other hand is still in my hair, now free from flowers, and I tilt my head against it.

"Yes."

My nod is enough for him. His eyes flash with the malice I would expect from a Dauntless soldier, and then it's gone.

"Then you need to be very careful. I need a few more days. Once I'm sure I'm right, which I will be, I'll come get you. I'll make sure he stays away from you. For good." Eric speaks lowly, a slow and warm promise, and I wonder what he means. "I could kill him now, but he might have information I need, and it would be frowned upon if I don't get it first."

"By who?"

Eric smiles, and his fingers curl against me. "NJ. He hates being left out of anything."

"Is he mad over the nickname?" I watch Eric's eyes darken at the close proximity, but it's like neither of us can help it. I want to be close to him, and he has no problem getting close to me. "I was trying to think of something better than Not Jason, but I didn't have enough time."

"He won't shut up about it, actually. Every three seconds I have to hear how you gave him a nickname and not anyone else." Eric shrugs, and my hands move to the fourth button on his jacket. His shirt beneath the jacket is black, and it's soft beneath my fingers. "He asked if I was bringing you home tonight."

"Is he here?" I focus on his shirt, because I can't look at him.

Eric being in front of me was one thing, but him letting me touch his jacket was another.

"He tried. He got stuck working with Max. But if he could be here, he would. He's a little…fascinated by you." Eric murmurs the last part, or maybe he's saying it quietly like no one should be fascinated with me. Maybe Landon was right, and my only redeeming quality is that I have nice hair. "He spent the whole drive back trying to get me to tell him if I thought you were pretty or not."

Eric's confession comes out of nowhere.

I like it. It's like a secret he's revealing, and I bet it took a lot for him to admit this.

"And?"

I undo the fourth button, and it's clear this guy works out. I press my palm against his chest until I feel his heart beating, and he smiles.

His nod is slow, but it accompanies his mouth crashing into mine.

I'm immediately pushed backward, until my shoulders hit the truck and his fingers tighten in my hair. His grasp on my waist changes to pull me against him, and I forget everything but this moment. His lips are warm, rough from being chewed on and rougher from barking orders at his soldiers, and frantic. His hands are large and everywhere; they fumble through my hair, up my back, and they tug at the fabric of the dress. He presses his lips firmly against mine until he's sure I'm not pushing him away, then harder, until they open.

I find myself dizzied in a way I've never felt.

I had been kissed before, but not like this.

Eric is impatient and lusty, more so than the demanding kiss of Landon, or the juvenile pecks beneath warm moonlight during a summer camp. Eric is arrogant and strong, moving closer and closer, until my whole world is him, and rightfully his. It takes me several seconds to realize he's picking me up, and his hand leaves me only to open the truck door. He breaks apart, sucking in a sharp breath, and I'm picked up before I realize he's moved me to stand on the railing. It does little to fix the height difference, but he doesn't care.

He leans back in, lips grazing my cheek in a rough claim, and his nose touches my ear.

"You really should tell me to stop."

Eric mumbles these words against my neck, and his teeth scrape against my skin. The sensation is pleasant enough that my head falls to the side, and I want him to keep going. One of my hands moves to touch the back of his head, and when I do, he pulls away from me faster than I can say his name.

"I shouldn't… you should get out of here, Amity."

"That's not my name," I point out, and I refuse to let him tell me this was a mistake. The look on his face is torn between wanting to continue and the realization of what he's just done. "It's Everly."

"Everly," he answers mockingly, but his stare is on my mouth. "You have no idea who I am. What I do. Why I'm here. You should tell me to get lost and get back to your brother's wedding and stay far, far away."

His words say one thing, but his stare says another. It burns at my skin, because he's not looking away, but only at me.

"I know who you are, Eric." I say his name back, less mockingly, and his eyes widen. "You came back to see me. That's why you're here."

He juts his chin out, and I know I'm right.

"So you do think I'm pretty?"

His smirk is answer enough. He returns to me, until his nose brushes mine and his lips press against mine, this time softer. But only for a minute. He kisses me harder, until my lips part open, and he takes my lower one between his teeth. I lose track of everything except how solid he is, how his hands have returned to grasping onto whatever they can, and how in control he is. Even when my hands do find his hair, softer than one would imagine but most definitely gelled in place, Eric is unwavering.

His tongue touches mine, and my eyes open when he pulls away a second later, and he swears.

"Fuck."

"What?" I blurt out, and he reaches around me. He fumbles with something on the seat, and I realize it's his phone. There's no name on there, only a single number, and he answers the phone with enough venom that I wince away.

"What the fuck do you want? You better have a damn good reason for calling me."

His words are like a bucket of ice water. He's not talking to me, not at all. He returns to looking at my face, his thumb touching my lip and his grey eyes impatient, and he screws them shut when the tiny voice tells him something he doesn't want to hear.

"Fine." He barks at the invisible disruption, and I silently swear at them, too.

I didn't want him to stop, but his mood is visibly soured by whoever called him.

"Don't call me again. Ever. Do you understand?" He's still looking at me, and I smile. He's sort of funny in the way he's yelling at someone, and I wonder if anyone who works for him ever quits. "Get back to work."

"Who was that?" I reach up to loop my arms around his neck, and his displeasure lingers. "Was it-"

"Someone from the control room. The few cameras that do work in Amity just went down." He says this through gritted teeth, and he looks close to snapping. "Four called to tell me the last image he saw was me, talking to you."

"Is that bad?" I pull him back down to me, and he lets me.

Willingly.

"Anything related to Four is bad," Eric mumbles, and his nose touches mine.

"Who's Four? That's someone's name?" I say this while Eric sucks in a deep breath, like he's trying not to laugh. "That's really his name?"

"According to him," Eric's lips touch mine again, and then he pulls back and sighs. "You really should get back to your party. This isn't smart."

"I don't want to go back. They're going to start singing any minute," I answer, and he laughs. It's mean as ever, but not. Like he understands that while I live here and am fully immersed in this world, I don't have to like it. "Do you want some cake?"

"No."

Eric answers tightly, but his hands tell the truth. He probably would like some cake. I imagine he eats nothing but foods that are healthy and clean, and lacking any real sugar.

"So you're going to come back? In a few days?" I hate that I sound desperate, but I am. For this few scorching minutes, I felt good. I felt alive. My blood was still rushing through my veins, and the high was something I doubt could be replicated by anything in Amity. "What's Dauntless like?"

"Dark. Expansive," Eric responds immediately, and he pulls away to look at me. "I'll be back in two days. Three days, max. If anything happens before then, promise me you'll try to talk some sense into Johanna."

"Okay." I agree, because his words sound like a promise to me, and I hope they are. "Will you- "

I get cut off by his phone ringing again. He eyes it warily, then lets go to grab it. He clicks on a few things before he swears loudly. "Shit."

"What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer right away. There's a lot going on that I don't understand and he clearly knows worlds more than I do. But his expression is different, sort of amused and pissed off, and he reluctantly turns the phone toward me.

"Your buddy NJ sent it. He must be bored."

I stare at the screen, and my eyes widen.

There, below the box marked Rylan, is a picture.

I blink in total surprise, because the picture is of me. Well, Eric and me. My arms are around his neck and his head is bent toward mine. It's grainy and rough looking, but not impossible to make out.

Beneath it, with a hundred exclamation marks is the word niiiiiice.

I don't want him to leave.

Eric says goodbye with all the enthusiasm one would expect. It's not even a real goodbye. He mutters the word against my lips and demands I don't die before he can come back. His instructions are clear, but it's hard to remember them when his mouth moves to my neck and his teeth sink in.

Stay alive.

Stay away from Landon.

Stay where he can see me.

If anything happens, try to alert Johanna and if she won't help, stay home.

The last part isn't entirely feasible. I've already committed to helping Sophia with a few things that require me to be the exact opposite of home, and I promised Zander we'd go back to the lake.

But I promise Eric I'll try, and I hope nothing bad happens.

Though I have a sinking feeling it will.

Eric breaks away slowly, and the ghost of him is still all over my skin. His eyes stay on my neck, flashing with smug approval, and for a moment, he struggles. His hands flex into fists, then unclench, and for one single moment, I have a feeling he's about to lunge for me. The look is all over his face, not as subtle as he hopes, that he would have no issues taking me along with him.

The scary part is I would go.

I realize this as I stumble over the length of my dress, and I press one hand to where his mouth had been. The skin feels raw and warm, and I bet there's a mark. I move my hair over it, and I do my best to walk quickly, because if I don't, I'll change my mind and go back to him.

He stands beside the truck as I head back toward the wedding, watching until the very last moment before I know he can't see me, and then, and only then, do I hear the truck turn on.


	10. Carole Baskins & The Great Chicken Murders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Bamberlee for editing!

You didn't introduce us!"

This time, the insult is all over Holly and Paisley. I don't even bother to see which one is yelling, because it's drowned out by someone giving a rousing speech to congratulate Willow and Forrest. I take my seat beside Sophia, doing her best to maintain her composure as Zander climbs onto the table to see better, while waiting to hear how Eric was. We're immediately joined by my sisters, crashing into the table like tiny psychos. Their gaze is sharp and knowing; they both immediately notice the lack of flowers, my hair pulled to the front, and my dress, slightly off kilter.

While all we had done was kiss, Eric had done a number on me.

The rush of excitement at kissing him paled in comparison to the feeling of knowing he wanted to come back and see me. His mumbled words telling me to tell him to stop and the way he mockingly said my name weren't enough to downplay what I felt between us. It was hard to ignore the way my heart had raced, blood pulsing like never before and my ears ringing with my own heartbeat. It was even harder to ignore how he'd refused to let go, didn't want to leave, and waited until the very last moment to drive off.

I wasn't even sure he'd left the faction.

That thought gave me another rush, almost as good as kissing him.

"Introduce you to whom?" I ask politely, yanking Zander off the table before he face plants into the bowl of mashed potatoes. The table was laid out elegantly, and he loved nothing more than destroying anything neatly organized. "Willow? You already met her."

"To Eric, you lovesick moron!" Holly's words are half whispered, half rage yelled in my ear. "We saw you go into the woods and you didn't come back for…" She pauses, glances around, and tries to find a way to tell time. "I don't know. An hour. Maybe two."

"It was not two hours. Or even one." I answer immediately, and I can feel my cheeks turning red. I successfully knock Zander into my lap, and I whisper for him to go find our mom. He listens without question, and the look on his face tells me he's over this wedding. I use his escape to my advantage, and I take a bite of the cake he didn't finish so I can stall for time. "But Eric was there. I asked if he wanted to come say hello and he said no."

"Well, that's incredibly rude!" Paisley slams her glass down, and Sophia's mother turns to look at her. "Sorry! I wanted to give a toast to Forrest and Willow and no one asked me. They said I wasn't allowed."

She lies a little too easily for my liking, but I appreciate her cover. I like Sophia's mother, but the last thing I need is to explain why one of the leaders of Dauntless didn't want to come sit down and mingle with the wedding guests of an Amity couple.

"Oh, well just go tell them! Everything is winding down, anyway." Sophia's mother smiles, and she looks at me. "You look so pretty, Everly. I was just telling your father I can't wait to see you get married. I bet it won't be much longer."

The cake sticks in my throat.

For a second, I can't swallow, and my death is imminent.

Her words are kind and sweet and whole heartedly honest, but they are a death sentence.

She's thinking I'll marry Landon, and she's one more person in this faction who's completely blind to what he's doing.

"Uh thanks. Me either." I manage to swallow and next to me, Paisley smiles smugly.

"Yeah, it'll be any day now. But it won't be here. Not even close." She leans back in triumph at her little comment and smiles even wider at the look on my face.

It's a silent death glare, one begging her to shut up, because this won't end in my favor.

"Well, hopefully I get to be there. Wherever you get married." Sophia's mom looks confused, and I smile brightly, hoping she'll go back to watching Forrest swoon over Willow.

She does.

I go back to the cake, and I lowly inform Paisley that I'm not going to tell her anything ever again.

The house feels empty.

It's weird to think, in a family where someone of every age could be found tripping over the stairs or sneaking into every one of the rooms, that one person being gone could feel so strange.

But it does.

I had hugged Forrest before heading home, and he held onto me so tightly it hurt. He whispered he loved me the most, probably to annoy Wesley who was patiently waiting to say goodbye, and he promised he'd be close by. He insisted their house was not far at all, and despite not telling me where it was, he said I could come by anytime. I hugged Willow second, and she quietly asked if I'd come over for dinner sometime. I agreed without any hesitation, and she seemed pleased as ever.

Once we said goodbye to half the faction, I walked home with Sophia and Courtney, lagging behind our families. We had been sent home while everyone else cleaned up, and it felt later than it really was. I kept an eye out for anyone in dark clothing, pretending I was hoping to see Jason or Not Jason, or maybe even Harrison, but I couldn't pretend I wasn't looking for Eric.

I didn't see anyone.

Once we made it to our house, I said goodnight to my friends, goodnight to Sophia and Courtney's parents, and went inside. By the time everyone went to bed, exhausted from the excitement of the day, I was wide awake. I went back downstairs, avoiding the squeaky step and the fact that my nightgown was more suited for one of my younger sisters, and I stood by the bookshelf.

For a minute, I just stood there, reading all the titles in an attempt to stop my racing thoughts.

The house felt too large. Too quiet. Too somber.

Forrest's wedding had been a day of total happiness for him, but I had to admit I missed him. It felt strange to not have him here. He was normally lurking around, waiting to prank someone. Forrest liked to surprise everyone when they weren't expecting him, and he was fantastic at helping keep the mood cheerful. He disliked any arguments, often put everyone's feelings before his, and did his best to craft a calm environment.

Willow hadn't changed that about him, but she must have shown him there was more to life than pretending everything was great.

I had noticed a few things upon returning back to their wedding. The first was that the entire thing was incredibly cringe worthy. The faction I once loved suddenly did seem vulnerable and sort of…stupid. Eric's words made me think about this, and not just because he uttered them with total disbelief.

I always believed our faction was smart. We had some brilliant farmers, some talented workers who created the greenhouses and the complicated watering systems and even designed bigger and better pens for the livestock. We had talented story tellers, musicians who knew their way around the kitchen and whatever instrument they picked up. Seamstresses and cobblers who could make clothes and shoes, producing fancy dresses out of yards of brightly colored fabric, or boots out of leather and rubber.

But there was something about living here that suspended you in time, away from what was really going on.

Landon had opened my eyes to this world, one waiting just beyond the tree line, and I felt slighted by my lack of knowledge. The Amity faction, which had once felt vast and infinite, was incredibly self-limiting. Here, I would only know what was passed on through our monthly meetings, the virtual announcements, or Johanna gathering the community to talk. I wouldn't hear anything behind the scenes, or theories or stories that might not be true. I would only hear cold, hard facts, watered down so everyone would approve of them.

This sucked. It made me feel small, like I was out of the loop with no way in. Eric knew way more than anyone, so I had no chance of offering anything to him, but I knew I couldn't live forever in my naivety.

I think of this, when my fingers touch the journal I'd shoved back into the bookshelf.

I reach for it, hesitating when the floor above me creaks, but I give in because it's just Wesley, not at all whispering for Leif to give him back his pillow. Once the house falls silent again, I turn the notebook over, and wait a second.

I'm met with thick silence, and I take it as a sign to keep looking.

The notebook opens on its own. It's my doing, but it feels ominous when it splits apart, and before me is a page of names and numbers. I read them carefully, tracing across from each name to the corresponding percentage, and I don't understand any of it.

The names are neatly listed, but the handwriting –not familiar to me in any way, but the same as the rest of the journal – grows sloppy at a few points.

Hank Carlen – 0%

Eden Carlen – 0%

Forrest Winters Carlen – 0%

Everly Winters Carlen –3%

Holly Carlen -0%

Paisley Carlen –0%

Wesley Carlen –0%

Leif Carlen –0%

Zander Winters Carlen –0%

My name is the only one with a varying percentage. I frown at it, trying to find some pattern or reasoning in the fading ink. Zander's is the last one written and the only one in dark, bold black. All of the others seem old, written a long time ago, then forgotten about.

Winters.

I touch the name written by mine.

I didn't have a middle name.

Neither did Forrest.

Neither did Zander.

But here, in this notebook, is a different name, written oddly before our last name, that hints that we might.

I flip through a few more pages, complicated drawings and layouts, and for a second, my stomach drops.

On the very last page of this section is an earmarked map. I stare at it so long it blurs, and when it comes back into focus, I have to blink to be sure what I'm seeing. It's drawn by hand, but very neat. The lines are perfectly straight and painstakingly placed, just like the gaping hole drawn far below, but alongside a high roof.

I stare at the words above it- JUMP HERE- until the knock on my door startles me so much I nearly drop the book.

Of course, it's not who I want to see on my porch.

It's Landon and his annoying friend. I eye them warily, noticing they're both shifty and impatient, and I decide to make this as quick as possible.

"What do you want? It's late." I greet both of them less than warmly, and Tobias frowns. He looks at me for a moment, and when his stare goes as far as the nightgown, he averts it immediately. "Is there a reason you're here?"

"Damn Everly, could you be any colder? We came by looking for your dad." Landon leans against the doorway, hiding Tobias behind him. "He said to come see him if we needed anything. And we need something."

"Well, sorry but he's asleep," I answer, crossing my arms and trying to see what Landon's side kick is doing. I notice he's examining our house, and every so often, he clears his throat. He doesn't look thrilled to be here, and he has the same look of reluctance he did when Colton smacked the camera out of the tree. "Hey, who's your new friend? The guy you were walking with the other day?"

"Colton?" Landon guesses, and he looks surprised. "Or Jeremy?"

"I don't know. He hit a camera out of the tree when you were walking." I pause, watching Landon's face slip to mild panic. "I was sitting on the hay bales with the kids. You must have missed me. But I saw you."

His panicked stare continues to worsen, and I get a rush of satisfaction at the look on his face. He didn't like being caught off guard. The king of sneaking around had been busted, and he didn't want me noticing he was up to no good.

"Are you sure she should know this? Their names? I told you walking through Amity in broad daylight wasn't smart." Tobias speaks lowly, and I decide I don't like him. He's just as shady as Landon, and judging by his nervous stance and his impatient glare, he's suspicious of me. I don't like the way his hair is messed up like he's been running his fingers through it or the way his jacket doesn't fit properly. "I told you Colton wasn't a smart choice. He's going to draw attention to himself if he doesn't calm down."

"No one in Amity noticed. We're used to the factionless coming in and out of here. The only ones who would notice were the ones in…." Landon pauses, and he whirls around, not liking this announcement. "You told me yourself. You said hardly any of the cameras work. You said almost all of them are faulty, except for a few on the pathway and you pointed those out."

"She noticed." Tobias points at me, shrugging when Landon shakes his head, and I narrow my eyes at him. "You said we could trust her, and she seems pretty standoffish."

I take mild offense to this.

I was being standoffish, but things weren't adding up. It was sounding like Tobias knew an awful lot about the cameras here, which was weird, since Eric knew about them, too. I squint at him, trying to see if I think he looks like he could be from Dauntless, then I decide no.

He's a little too neurotic to be from such a deadly faction.

"I'm not standoffish. It's late. You both should go home." I decide this conversation is over, and I stand my ground until Landon steps back. "I'll tell my dad you came by. He's working tomorrow morning. You can go see him then."

I don't want to tell Landon this, but it works to pacify him. It lessens his suspicion that I'm suspicious of him, because he seems to appreciate this information.

Which was not true in any way. My dad was most certainly not working tomorrow, but I keep that to myself.

"Thanks, Everly. Have a good night. Sorry if we scared you." Landon looks at me expectantly, and I realize he's waiting for me to hug him goodbye. Or kiss him, if his delusion was high enough this evening.

It is.

Despite having threatened me and grabbing my wrist and twisting it until it hurt, he acts like our engagement is about to occur any day now, and he's owed something from me. "Um, are you gonna kiss me goodnight? I thought we were talking about getting-"

I slam the door shut, not caring that he's still talking or that Tobias got to witness his rejection and will probably make fun of him for it. He seems like the kind to be petty, especially because Landon seems to be annoying him.

I'm right.

A few seconds later, I hear Landon storm off, taking the steps two at a time.

I peek through the curtains to see Tobias behind him, walking with his hands in his jacket pockets, smiling smugly as he follows him into the night. He looks entertained and not the least bit sympathetic.

It makes me like him just a little bit.

A day later, I notice the soldiers everywhere.

At first, it's just here and there.

A random pop of black, intently examining a horse or kicking at a pile of rocks and they walk the main pathway for the third time in an hour.

Jason, once, practically sprinting through the faction like he's on fire. Not Jason runs after him, laughing hysterically, and behind him, May's ducks trail along, happy to have made new friends.

I see Harrison, strolling behind all of them and chewing on a long piece of grass, mumbling that the two of them were morons, and they were ruining his investigation. He ignores everyone when his phone rings, and I trail behind him while he orders dinner.

I find it odd when he orders a plate of chicken, hummus and pita bread, but I don't get the chance to ask. He takes off abruptly, dipping into the woods and demanding his dinner is hot when he arrives back in Dauntless.

I keep waiting to see Eric, but it becomes clear I'm not lucky this week. I see lots of men and women in their dark uniforms looking disgusted as they walk by the stables, and a few gingerly touching things. Some linger by the kitchen, a few sit at our tables, and one –a man with dark brown hair and a very unfriendly and visibly forced smile – talks to Johanna for a long time.

I manage to get close enough, clutching freshly picked flowers to my chest and pretending I wasn't trying to listen, but all I caught were a few words.

I hear him mutter something about the factionless, and his tone is oddly sympathetic. Maybe it's a trick to get Johanna to talk to him, but it doesn't work. She catches my eye, winks, and politely tells him this isn't his jurisdiction, nor is it hers.

He leaves looking not as disappointed as one would think, and I nearly drop the flowers when someone says his name.

Jeremy.

Two days later, a chicken escapes.

This event only highlights my dull life in Amity, because I find myself willingly invested in helping Jerry find him. I would normally refuse. Jerry had been looking at me weird for days, and I knew Landon had told him I was acting odd. It didn't make it any better when my own father sided with Landon, and after my mother forced him to, he had gently let me know he was sorry for our disagreement but pressed on, asking if I would reconsider my attitude and my stance on marriage.

I told him never.

His expression told me he expected a different answer.

He wasn't very happy with me these days, and I was quickly working on a plan to escape from having anything to do with Landon. Sophia was still determined to take him down. I told her about him showing up after the wedding, and she pretended to gag. Mable told her to stop, because the little kids began imitating her, but at least she was on my side. But even having one person believe me, well four if you counted Holly and Paisley and Courtney, it still wasn't enough.

I was starting to get some strange looks, and I knew people were wondering why I hadn't tried to procure a proposal out of Landon. Young marriages were the stuff Amity was built on. It was a natural progression once you were an actual member here, for every reason. It made sense, and it would make sense for me to marry someone my father liked. It would be a very easy alliance family wise, and it would solidify our standing in the faction. All I had to do was hint I'd changed my mind, and Landon would ask and forget all about my calling him out on his weird behavior.

Unfortunately for him, and the rest of the faction, this would never happen.

"Did you find him?" Jerry asks unhappily, looking exhausted and worn out. His overalls are crooked, his boots are muddy, and his prized chicken is nowhere to be found. "I appreciate you helping me, Everly."

"No problem. And I haven't found him yet, but he has to be here somewhere."

My interest in this chicken, a fine specimen named Don, hinged solely on the fact that it got me away from the house. I had spent a day trying to figure out how to contact Eric without telling Johanna, and a second day feeling lonely and disheartened that my wardrobe didn't contain anything darker than a shocking shade of raspberry. My mother was starting to notice my waning enthusiasm, and I almost slipped up and asked her what the numbers in the notebook meant.

But I didn't.

Because my father arrived home with Landon, explained what was going on, and I immediately took off to help find Don.

"I think…. I don't want to admit this, and don't repeat this, Everly. But I think Carole might have picked Don to have for dinner. I told her Don and I have a special bond. He's the fastest…"

I blink.

"the funniest..."

I scrunch my face up, trying to remember if Don was the funniest of the bunch. This was a tough choice, and Jerry was clearly playing favorites, but it didn't feel right bringing that up now.

"…best chicken a guy could ask for. He won the chicken race last year, if you remember."

"I do," I answer seriously, because I had been forced to attend. I'd also gambled on a chicken named Antle and lost. Big time. "Um, but I don't think Carole would have picked Don for dinner. She knows you love him…as much as one can love a chicken?" I trail off, wondering if this was really happening.

It was.

I'd spent two hours helping him look for Don already, with no signs of slowing down.

"I'm gonna look by the Dome. I'll come back if I find him." I say this brightly, and Jerry nods. He returns to looking in the horse stalls, and I head outside. There are others helping. I wave halfheartedly at Jed and Brad, and I avoid Cameron's pleading look altogether. I bypass some of the younger famers from the last initiation, Harold and Emmet, and I pretend to be very busy looking for Don.

Ultimately, my search winds up a winning success.

I don't find Don by any means, and there's a high chance no one ever will, but I do find something even better.

"You really should not be in here right now."

This time, we sit in the truck. Well, Eric sits in the truck, and I sit on his lap. I silently thank whatever deity was watching over me in this moment, because the second he saw me, Eric had waved me over to his side of the truck –parked daringly closer than I would imagine he liked- opened the door, and when I stepped up to see what he wanted, he pulled me right onto his lap. For two whole seconds, I assumed he wanted to talk. I was about to tell him about Landon and Toby, the sulky assistant with a heart of pettiness after my own and ask if he had anything on him yet, but I was cut off by Eric shutting the door and pulling me shamelessly closer.

He went straight for my lips, coaxing my face to his, and digging his fingers into my hair. His nails scratched my scalp, the hair tangled around and around, then he slid them out when he kissed me. His lips were rough and demanding, and the desperation was amplified. I thought maybe it was the space; the cabin of the truck seemed cramped this time around, or maybe it was because one of his hands was on my thigh.

Eric had no issue shoving the pink fabric out of the way.

His eyes darkened when I didn't stop him, and I lost a shoe when he didn't bother to ask permission. He did in a silent way, not daring to move any higher as he mumbled my name into my skin.

"What are you doing out here, Everly?"

I like the way he says it, because he makes it sound like he shouldn't be saying it. He presses it against my skin, where his teeth linger over the most exposed part of my throat, and he murmurs it again, when I don't answer.

"Everly?"

"I was looking for a chicken," I try not to laugh as I say this, because it sounds even dumber considering his fingers have crept higher, and I don't want him to stop.

His whole focus is on me.

For once, no one in my life is trying to upstage anything I'm doing.

There are no family members desperately trying to make me watch them do something that doesn't interest me, and no parents trying to convince me their marriage was fine, the family was fine, and if I kept smiling and married a guy who could one day kill me, everything would be fine.

There is only Eric, warm and patient and most definitely letting me take his jacket off.

"You were looking for…a chicken?" He breaks away from me, ignoring the whined protest that escapes from my throat. "Every time I see you, you're doing something weird." Eric declares, and his eyes narrow. "You're sure it was a chicken? Not…Landon or whoever else you saw?"

I busy myself by wiggling the jacket off him. He'd let me unbutton it, sitting mostly silently while I nimbly maneuvered the dark buttons, and he smirked when I got it unbuttoned completely. He had a different dark shirt on today, this one soft and fitted, and short sleeved despite the cool weather.

"I wish I was making this up, but I'm not. The chicken's name is Don and we all know Carole took care of Don. I just don't know how to break this news to Jerry." I watch as Eric shifts, and he tosses the jacket beside him. It lands on a pile of things. A book, a few manilla folders, his phone, which is oddly silent, and another phone. "Is someone going to call you? Because every time I see you, someone is-"

"I turned it off." Eric's answer is quick and stern, and he leans back. "Are you saying she killed Don?"

He makes a face of both disbelief and disgust, and I can't help but laugh. He's oddly adorable in his confusion, and for once, I know something he doesn't.

Which, unfortunately, is that sometimes our chickens became chicken fingers.

"It's not as bad as it sounds. She probably had one of the farmers do it," I promise, and I lean in. I put my hands on his face, and his cheeks are cold. The skin is smooth, freshly shaved and utterly pristine, and far unlike the beards of the farmers who couldn't be bothered shaving at such an early hour. I press gently, touching his cheekbones, and he tilts his head in another bout of confusion. My stare finds his earlobes, and the violent circles punched through them. "Did that hurt?"

Eric stays silent while I reach over to touch the metal. It's cold and heavy, and I can't imagine it in my own ears. Eric waits until I'm done to shake his head, and his lips turn up.

"No."

"What about your eyebrow? Forrest cut his eyebrow on an end table once. He had to get stitches, but my mom did them."

I watch Eric struggle to take all this in, and I understand it's a lot. Here I was, letting him skim along the side of my thigh, so high that he was about to get to the embarrassingly pink underwear I have on, while I told him about Carole's murder for hire plot and my brother cracking his head open. This world had to feel strange. I envisioned his own world was strange. I would bet anything went in Dauntless, but it was starting to seem like every time he came by, he got to see the parts of Amity that proved the truth to our reputation.

"Forrest is your brother? The one who just got married." Eric disappointingly doesn't kiss me again, but he simply stares, like he's trying to remember something. "How many of you are there?"

"Forrest is the oldest. I have two younger sisters, Paisley and Holly. They want to meet you, by the way. Then, I have three younger brothers. Wesley, Leif, and Zander." I chew on my lip while he contemplates this, because his eyes blink when I list them all, and they glance down when I drop my hand away from him. "Eric?"

"Do they also want to meet me?" He asks dryly, and I shake my head.

"Zander might. He likes Harrison. They picked out rocks together." Eric cocks an eyebrow at me, and I wonder if he finds any of this information useful. "Do you like Harrison? Do you work with him a lot?"

"I don't want to talk about Harrison right now," Eric answers, and he tilts his head to look at my neck. He had left a mark, a bright red one that took a day or two to fade, and he looks disappointed it's gone. "I actually don't want to talk at all."

I lose my train of thought because my cheeks darken at the assumption that he's here to see me, and he'd like to continue on with what we were doing. He smirks at me, too handsome and too slick for his own good, and I can't tell him no.

Especially not when his hand presses flat over my leg, and it's warm.

Everything is warm.

He leans in, touching his lips to mine, and he doesn't pull away.

"I just came by to see you, little Amity."

His words are both the prize and the high I've been seeking. Eric is worse than peace serum. He is dark and dangerous, and just as slippery in every way. Because when I'm with him, not just now, with his fingers slowly touching my skin and his grey eyes impatiently waiting for me to urge him on, things are good. They are warm and heavy, like the blanket of happiness the serum coated everyone in, and just as addicting. I suddenly understand why some people willingly drug themselves into feeling good, and it's a terrifying realization to know that a person can make you feel the same way.

He seems to feel the same way about me.

"You know, this is highly frowned upon. Someone is going to notice I've taken an active interest in the Amity faction, beyond what we're investigating." He kisses me roughly, lips touching mine with an urgency mirroring the first time he kissed me, and I wonder if he just likes this because it's wrong.

My stomach drops as I try to decide if that's the appeal for him, but I don't think it is.

"Will they notice?" I try to focus, but it's impossible. Eric smells good, clean and fancy, like he's from another world, one where walking cows wasn't a daily occurrence. "I'm glad you came back. Just tell them, tell them you're here for work." I try to help him think of a reason he'd be here, and he laughs. He snickers against my lips and shakes his head.

"Some already have. But I am here on business. If you consider the fact that you've seen the factionless and I'm here to interrogate you."

"Is that what this is?" I laugh, and my head falls back when his lips touch my cheek. He's slow and purposeful, and it's driving me insane. "Are you doing this just so I'll tell you everything I know?"

"Well, that and I missed you. I don't know why. I don't even know you." This confession, spoken so lowly it's nearly impossible to hear, is practically whispered into my skin. I freeze in place, sort of straightening up, because no one has ever missed me.

Not like this.

"Maybe Rylan is right. Maybe I should take you back with me. I can keep you safe. No one here can." His arrogance is more apparent than ever, and he fully believes it. "You can tell me everything you know in Dauntless."

My whole world tilts. My head spins at the very thought, and how he's suddenly so open. The thought is beyond appealing. I would willingly go with him, but could I leave everything I knew behind? I don't know anything about Dauntless or even Eric, and I'd be risking my life at the hands of a man who I barely knew. Would it be brave to say yes, or stupid?

A tiny nagging voice in my head points out it would probably be stupid. I was under the impression Eric is a good guy. I'd met Jason and Not Jason, and I was basing my entire theory of who he was off them. He could be a completely different person in Dauntless, and if I went along, I'd be stuck there with no way out.

I ignore this voice, because Eric says my name quietly, and when I look at him, he finds his own words a mistake.

"I didn't mean…you know what? You should go back to finding Don. Or the chicken. Or whoever you're looking for."

"No!" I blurt out, hating the way he slides right back into the Eric who knows better. I like the impulsive version, the one who just told me he wanted me to go home with him. "I don't want to go find a chicken. I want…I want…"

He waits patiently.

He stares, his eyes darker than I've seen them and his lips pressed together, like he doesn't trust himself to speak. Eric waits for me to say what I want, but I don't know if I can admit I want him.

"Do your parents live in Dauntless?"

His eyes widen, just for a second.

"You want to know about my parents?" Eric raises an eyebrow, and he looks past me in a thinly veiled attempt to avoid the question. "Why?"

"Are they nice?"

"No, they are not." The hand that's on my back digs into the fabric of my dress, and he holds on tightly. "They live in…." he stops to determine if I am worthy of an answer, but ultimately, he decides I am. "They both live in Erudite."

"You're from Erudite?"

This shouldn't surprise me. Eric was cunning and smart and saw Landon's plan long before I did. I was the one living it, and I hadn't even figured out what he was doing.

"Yes," Eric responds sharply, and the hand on my thigh presses down. "Is that really what you wanted to know?"

"Can you go visit them?" I lean closer to him, and he relaxes. It's slight, just a quick change in his posture, but I notice it. "Do they come to Dauntless?"

I'm asking these questions for a reason, and he knows it.

If I were to go with him, maybe not today, maybe not next week, or even this month. Maybe sometime in the future, I wanted to make sure I could at least know how my parents were doing.

"I could visit them if I wanted to. But I don't." Eric's tone rings with annoyance, and this is my cue to let it go. "Why are you asking? Do you know them? Have you needed to see a brain surgeon these days? Maybe after you fell out of the tree?"

"Is that what they do?" I look at him in surprise. "Both of them?"

"My father," Eric mutters, but he shrugs. "I rarely see either. It's for the best."

I let this sink in, trying to imagine a man who looked like Eric performing brain surgery. I knew little about the Erudite hospitals, only that they had them. I'd heard a few stories about our farmers going there. Sometimes the accidents in our fields were much larger than my mother could handle, and she sent them there without question. They always came back, but they rarely spoke of what it was like there.

My mother had gone once. She said everything was very cold, very clean, and very lifeless.

"Landon was with someone else. Some guy named Colton." I reach forward to touch his chest again, steadying myself, and he likes this. The first time I'd touched him, crashing into him on the pathway, he'd held me away from him.

Now, he's urging me closer, slowly moving his head toward mine.

He resumes his normal leader of Dauntless mode, cocking his head to listen to the information he really wants.

Other than Don's fate.

"He had another guy with him, too. I saw him with the factionless, but this time he was walking through the faction with Landon." I keep offering him this information in hopes that he'll stay, and it works. He nods, and his nose touches mine. "His name is-"

He's not paying attention anymore.

He moves his hand away from my leg, to grasp my waist and pull me as close as he can. The contrast of his dark clothes and my pink dress are vibrant, and it's a clash of two worlds as he presses his lips to mine, daringly slow. It's like he's trying something out, forcing himself to be gentle, because he kisses me softly until he's had enough.

"Why haven't you arrested him yet? Can't you?"

Eric's eyes open, momentarily slow and lazy from kissing me, and he blinks.

He looks surprised, but not entirely.

"We looked into what you told me. For now, Landon came away squeaky clean. His reputation here is outstanding. He willingly took Harrison out to where the factionless camp was and showed him how he was providing them with meals. It's not encouraged by any means, but we don't have grounds to arrest him for sharing food. Harrison brought up his assault on you. He said he'd heard Landon had been rough with a few of the girls from Amity, and he flat out told Harrison you two had a misunderstanding, and you'd forgiven him." Eric finishes with a look of dissatisfaction, and my lips part in pure horror.

"He's lying! Eric, he's working to build an army and….and…" I stop when he nods, shrugging slightly. "Do you not believe me?"

"Of course, I believe you. If I didn't, would I have shown you how to punch him?" Eric answers roughly, annoyance all over his face. "Look, we don't have any of the proof we need, but we're working on it. I can look up a Colton, and I can look up Landon, but until I have proof, we're stuck waiting for him to slip up."

"But I saw them," I protest, but he already knows that. "Is that why Dauntless was here all week?"

"We increased our soldiers' presence here in hopes of driving the factionless out and disrupting their plans. So far, it seems to be working. They could be meeting elsewhere, but Amity is their preferred spot. Low numbers of working cameras, plenty of open space, a few members willing to feed them…" Eric pauses, and he touches my wrist. "This has been going on for a while. You only know about it now because someone wanted you involved."

He toys with it, brushing his thumb over it, then sighs.

"I brought you something."

"What is it?" I wait, and he jerks his head to the side. I manage to understand what he's getting at, and I move to climb off his lap, hating the way the truck is cold without him against me. I less than gracefully land beside him, and I fix my dress. I smooth the skirt down and adjust the sleeve, patiently waiting for him to show me what he's brought.

"Do you know how to use a phone?" Eric reaches over me, and his tone is serious. "A cell phone?"

"Sort of." I hope he believes me, because the look on his face tells me he doesn't. "You could show me."

"Okay, how do you get ahold of someone in Amity if you need them?" Eric stops to look at me, and he picks up his phone, then the one lying beside it. "Smoke signals?"

"We use those as a last resort," I joke, and he cracks the barest hint of a grin. "We just go to their house. Or try to find them wandering around."

"Okay," Eric shuts his eyes tightly, and he presses on his temples. "Great. Very efficient. So, this would be the next step and even these are incredibly outdated. This is a phone."

"I know what a phone is," I do my best not to smile, because while I know what a phone is, I've never really used one like this. "Johanna has one."

Eric rolls his eyes.

"She rarely answers it. I'm going to show you how to turn it on. You can take a picture if you see something weird. You can record a video. You can call, if you're in trouble or if you think I need to see something. You need to keep it hidden, because I'll have a lot of explaining to do if someone investigates why you have a phone out here." He stops, and his eyes find mine. "It probably won't work in some areas. There are less areas of reception out here, no matter how hard we try. So if it doesn't connect right away, try again."

"Okay," I take the phone from him, my fingers touching his for just a moment, and I stare at the shiny, black screen. "So, now I can call you. If I need anything."

For a moment, Eric is silent. He looks right at me, and he bites his jaw down. "Yes, you can call me."

"I take it no one in Dauntless has your phone number?" I tease him brightly, because the look he's throwing me is one that says exactly what I'm thinking. That only those who absolutely had to be in contact with him had it, and even then, they were risking their own lives to call him. "Should I be honored?"

"Yes, you should." Eric struggles to maintain a neutral expression, and he shows me where to swipe to unlock the phone. "Click here to call me. My number is the only one in there. Or it should be."

I glance down at the phone, and the list makes me grin.

"The one below your name says Rylan the Great. Should I call him?"

"Only if you're bored enough. He'll talk your ear off." Eric leans back against the truck seat, and he shakes his head. "I had him set it up. I forgot to check what else he put on there."

He tilts his head back, and for just a moment, he is utterly human.

He presses his palms to his eyes and stays that way. I choose to observe him over looking through the phone, and I smile when he moves his palms away.

"Thank you for this. I feel better having a way to call you." I smile at him, and he nods.

He looks at me, almost past me, then lunges forward, kissing me so hard I struggle to take a deep breath. His hands are lost in my hair, and the phone falls out of my hands and lands on the floor.

So does his.

Neither of us notice. We're too busy trying to make the most of the suddenly cramped space to pay any attention. Eric kisses me over and over, until he lowly informs me he has actual work to do, and he breaks away with the utmost regret.

I feel it, too.

It echoes in my bones as he helps me down from the truck, the rotten, burning unfairness of being kept away from him, and it stings when he doesn't let go right away.

He doesn't kiss me goodbye, no.

He holds me against him, stiffly, and I get the feeling Eric has never hugged anyone else in his life.

I make it halfway home before the phone rings.

I narrowly avoid Jerry, still looking for Don, and I take the scenic route. I'm not particularly enthused to go home, because there is a chance Landon is still there, but I promised my mom I'd help make dinner. I feel better about everything now that I know I can call Eric. I feel even better knowing that maybe I'll be able to get a picture of Landon doing something with the factionless, and then, everyone will have no choice but to believe me.

I'm lost in this imaginary scenario when the phone rings again, almost impatiently, and I swipe up on the black screen with the arrogance of someone whose had a phone forever.

"Hello?"

No one says anything.

I keep walking, weaving my way in and out of the trees that spot this area, enjoying the cold breeze slicing through.

"Hello? Eric?"

"Who the fuck is this?"

It's definitely not Eric.

The voice on the other end is as sharp as nails. It scratches my eardrum as it shrieks again, hysterically demanding to know who I am.

"This is Everly. Who are you?"

"Who am I?" The voice is so loud that I pull the phone away, and when I look at the screen, the wave of horror is immediate.

"Ashley?"

"Why are you answering his phone? Where are you? Are you with him? Are you fucking him?" She yells as loudly as she possibly can, and I conjure up the image of an actual banshee when she demands to know why I have his phone. "Who the fuck are you, EVERLY?!"

She says my name like it's dirty, and I would normally be apologetic.

Except I'm more concerned that Eric hasn't noticed the phones were mixed up.

"Do you want to leave a message? I can pass it along," I offer sweetly, and Ashley, the now named but faceless monster rages on. She says my name along with several expletives, and I'm not sure what I did to earn her wrath. "Is that a no?"

"Oh, it's more than a no you little bitch!"

"HEY! AMITY!"

I stop listening to Ashley's meltdown so I can turn to see Eric doing his best to pretend he's not running toward me. Part of me is thrilled to see him, because he's back and his gaze is glued to me, and the other part is disappointed because I wanted to see if anyone else called him.

"You have my phone," Eric says, relieved as ever. "I tried calling but it went to voicemail and-" He stops when he sees the screen lit up, and he freezes. "Who are you talking to? Did someone call?"

"It's someone named Ashley." I cover up the phone with my hand, and I shake my head. "But I have to warn you, she sounds unstable."

"She is." Eric takes the phone before I can stop him, and he hangs up without bothering to greet her. "Here, I'll walk you home."

"Who is she?" I take the phone he's offering me, and he shoves his in his jacket pocket. "You said she isn't your wife or your-"

"She's no one." Eric's answer is firm, and the tone hints that he doesn't want to talk about her. "Come on. Did you ever find your chicken?"

"Not yet. Do you want to help?" I smile up at him, and my arm bumps his. He's walking so close it's hard not to bump into him, and at one point, my hand brushes against his. I wait for him to recoil, but he doesn't. He purposely steps closer, and his fingers graze mine. "Is that a yes?"

"I'll pass but thank you for thinking of me." Eric glances down at me out of the corner of his eye. His fingers touch mine again, purposely, and it's far more intimate than when he kissed me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just thinking about…"

I'm thinking about how I'm about to have to explain what I'm doing with Eric. My world tilts again, this time less dizzyingly and more horrifyingly, as I realize not only is Eric's hand touching mine, it's being observed by my mother.

She's frozen in place on the pathway, a dozen or so feet ahead, with her gaze firmly fixed on my and Eric's hands.


	11. Meeting Evelyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following! I'm still trying to get everything caught up!

She composes herself before Eric notices.

Or she tries to. He's probably already spied my mother watching us. He's very observant, and it's hard to miss her concerned blink as she takes a single step closer. She was standing on the pathway holding a basket in her hands, but now she's walking toward us, completely unafraid.

She doesn't even flinch under Eric's sharp stare.

My mother isn't scary by any means, but the way she's looking at him hints she could be.

"What are you two doing?" She nears us quickly, and in her hands is a gift from the neighbors. The note attached reads Congratulations Mr. & Mrs. Carlen, and it must be for my brother. "Everly, why are you with…with…"

"This is Eric," I introduce him brightly, and absolutely no one is pleased. My mother looks at him, craning her head up to take in his sharp profile and his pristine scowl, and he looks down at her with his chin jutted out. "He uh, walked me home."

"Why?" She steps back, then forward, and finally, right in front of him. She's not much taller than me, and the dress she has on is similar to mine. Eric narrows his eyes at her, especially when her gaze softens as she takes in his uniform. The look goes away quickly, turning less worried and more motherly, but she wins.

He stays silent, until she nods.

"It's nice to meet you, Eric."

"Hello." His answer is immediate, easy and unbothered.

"Do you two know each other?"

"You could say that," Eric answers slickly, like his mouth hadn't been on my neck not too long ago and his hand hadn't been under my dress. "I wanted to make sure she got home alright."

"Well that was very…kind of you." My mother doesn't even try to hide her skepticism, but she smiles. Widely. "Are you here alone? Are there other soldiers here today?"

"Why?" Eric is momentarily caught off guard, and the look is funny on him. "Are you expecting someone else from Dauntless?"

"No. I've learned not to expect anyonefrom Dauntless," my mother responds so firmly that my own eyes widen. "Everly, why don't you come along with me? I'm going to take this to your brother. It was dropped off from someone who couldn't make the wedding. Thank you for walking her home, Eric."

"Sure." Eric's answer is flat, and there's a silent standoff while I don't move. I want to say goodbye to him or ask him to show me a few more things on the phone, but I can't. The phone is currently pressed into the palm of my hand, halfway behind me, and I doubt my mother is about to leave me alone with Eric. "I would advise you stay inside. Both of you."

"Are those direct orders?" My mom pulls her shoulders back, and her gaze wavers when he squints his eyes. Something dawns on her because she immediately shakes her head and looks horrified. "My apologies. Please forgive me, I'm being terribly rude. Would you like to come in for some tea? I could make some for you. It's getting cold."

"No, I have work to do," Eric pauses, and he looks over at me. There is another moment of silence, then he steps away, and his boots crunch over the ground. "Have fun at Forrest's."

He leaves on that note, and the disappointment is like a punch to the face. I watch him leave, noticing he doesn't look back until he's a good distance away, and his eyes meet mine.

He doesn't smile.

He stares, holding my gaze until my mother clears her throat, then he turns away. He keeps going in the direction he came, disappearing once the pathway curves.

My mother looks at me, staring until I look at her, and I wait for her lecture, or for her to ask me how he knew which brother she was talking about.

Her words aren't at all what I expect.

"All I will say is I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Everly."

Forrest and Willow's house is much larger than I would have guessed.

It's not too far away from ours, and it sits farther back from the pathway. It looks similar to my parent's home; there's a high porch, though this one wraps farther than theirs, and lots of large windows. It's two stories, and the wood is dark and freshly lacquered. It looks like someone has recently worked to get it ready, and they've even planted fresh flowers and set up a swing in the trees off to the side.

It's beautiful, but completely dark.

Not a single light is on, including the brand new security lights.

"I don't think they're here," my mother sounds forlorn at this discovery, and I know she misses Forrest terribly. "I was hoping to see them."

"It's okay. We can come back later." I promise. "Let's take the gift home and we'll come by when they're back. Maybe they went out for a walk or something."

"That's a good idea. But I wonder where they went. I was assuming they'd be home by now."

"I don't know. Maybe…maybe they went into the woods?" I try to think of where they could have gone, but there wasn't much happening in Amity right now. They might have gone for a walk, but it was more likely they were somewhere no one would find them, and this realization makes me very nervous.

"Do you care if we stop by and see if Jerry found his chicken?" I reach for my mother's arm, noticing she looks overwhelmingly emotional, but her frown vanishes with my words. She nods, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Sure."

We leave, heading back down the path. We make our way to Jerry's silently, and I use the time to gear up to face both him and Landon.

And Carole.

"They aren't here. Are you two okay? Eden, is something wrong?"

Carole is mildly dramatic as she greets us, flouncing down the steps like she's floating. Her blonde locks are long and tangled, and the ring of flowers seems permanently pressed into her hair. She smiles woozily, and stumbles down the third step.

"Sorry, I was working on my newsletter. Everly, are you okay?"

"Hi Carole. It's good to see you. We're both fine. We just came by to see if Jerry had any luck finding Don."

"Oh goodness, no. He's still very concerned over where he went." She waves dismissively, giggling at the idea. In her peace serum induced happy hour, Carole has lost the ability to tell one emotion from the next. She proves this when she cheerfully informs us Jerry and Landon are not home, and she misses the way my face scrunches up when she insists she'll tell Landon I came by to see him.

"Eden, did I see you talking to someone from Dauntless? I swore you were with some guy earlier."

My mother answers her, trying to explain that Eric had walked me home, but Carole insists it was someone else. She keeps talking, protesting that he was thinner and older, and my mother reassures her Eric was the only one here.

I wait patiently while my mother chats with her, and I bide my time by looking for a clue as to where Don went.

There aren't any.

Only the other chickens squawking away, cheerfully unaware of their missing friend.

The phone is very fancy.

Despite Eric's claim that it was outdated, I've never seen anything like it. I unlock it once I'm alone, safely in my bedroom and ready for bed, and I struggle to figure out how to use it. It's not that hard, but it's clearly meant for someone who works in Dauntless and not me. There are all kinds of icons and apps, plenty of tiny text labeling everything, but zero instructions. I discover I have more than two numbers, in fact, Not Jason had set up a whole list of them, all beneath his own. I hadn't noticed, because he made his and Eric's stay up at the top, clearly marked favorites, and the rest are names I don't really know.

Eric.

Rylan the Great.

Christina The Greatest Girlfriend Ever.

Jason the Real Jason.

Meghan The Okayest Girlfriend Ever.

Harrison *Emergencies Only or if Something is on Fire*.

Daniel Coulter.

Satan aka Arlene.

Quinten the Snack Bitch.

Weird Guy at the Gate.

Merchant Guy *No live animals*.

There are more, but since I only know the first few names, I skip them. I do pause over Harrison's name, wondering if he would answer if I called, but I don't really have any reason to call him. If Harrison did answer, I could always ask if he was coming by. But Eric gave me the phone in case I was in trouble, and I don't think this counts.

I swipe out of the contact list, and I skim through a few more apps. There's one labeled POINTS, one labeled ORDERING, and one labeled PHOTOS.

I press the last one, hoping for something vaguely interesting, and a whole new world explodes before me.

The photos are from what I can only assume is the Dauntless faction. They are underground, far beneath the Earth, looking up at walls that rise and drop with an uneven jaggedness. The sky, if barely visible at all, sneaks into the corner of each one as a drip of blue or a burst of bright yellow. In several are Jason and Not Jason, sitting on a bridge suspended over a wide open gap, holding up amber bottles. There is Not Jason, taking a photo of himself with his eyes shut as he stands on the edge of a roof. There is a girl with green hair as bright as the neon plants here, sitting beside Jason and grinning from ear to ear. Not Jason and a girl with dark hair, teetering on the edge of a waterfall, pretending to fall in.

There are more.

Dozens more.

Shops.

A cafeteria.

A dark abyss in an empty building.

Some sort of place to eat, with enormous animal skulls mounted on the wall and cozy booths. A strange room with a woman scowling as she stabs a man lying on a table, in the middle of giving him what I assume is a tattoo. A store full of clothes, all black or dark maroon, boasting a sale with Not Jason pointing to the sign and making a face.

A girl walking along with a funny look on her face, her blonde hair cut sharply to her shoulders and her smile unfriendly.

The trucks, neatly lined up.

The trucks, not neatly lined up.

I scroll through these greedily, trying to take my time. Each photo is better than the last. There are a few snaps of soldiers, a terrifying image as they stand in endless lines, watching as someone speaks before them. One of Jason pulling on his uniform jacket in an office, while Harrison stands behind him looking annoyed. There is another one of Harrison, holding up what appears to be a squirrel, but he's not in the woods. He's in an apartment, and he looks annoyed in this photo as well.

The pictures of Eric are last, and I'm wholly unprepared for them.

One of him at his desk.

It's large and dark, and he'd looked up as someone took the photo. He doesn't look pleased, but he's surrounded by papers and a computer and books, and a large map is tacked on the wall behind him.

There's another one of him in the place with the booths and animal trophies, drinking a glass of something dark. He's not smiling, but smirking, and he's not wearing his uniform. He's dressed normally; his shirt is a button down, black and blacker, and the sleeves are rolled up. I spy a tattoo I didn't notice before, and it wraps around his forearm and underneath. I take a moment to study at leisure the columns of dark blocks on his neck.

He is a shocking sight, both handsome and intimidating, and the girl behind him is staring with wide eyes.

I touch the picture, wondering how on Earth someone tattooed his throat.

The third picture is him in Erudite.

I stare at this one for a long time, because Eric is not alone. He's out of place in the photo, the Dauntless uniform violent against the glass panes and white walls, as well as the man in blue. I know it's Erudite because there is a sign reading Erudite Main Hospital Campus, and a girl sitting at the reception desk wearing royal blue.

The man standing beside Eric looks just as impressive as he does, and he's trying to smile. His glasses are black and large, and his hair is neatly parted to the side. I touch this picture, too, and to my surprise, it immediately becomes larger.

I'm even more surprised when I can read the name on his jacket, Dr. Daniel Coulter, with a slew of letters behind it. Eric doesn't look very happy in this picture, and in the next one, his face is furious. He's striding toward whoever took the photo, and the one after is a blurry view of the floor. The last one is of him storming out through the doors of the hospital, and someone caught the very second he flips them off.

I feel indulgently guilty looking through all these.

The others that follow show me a glimpse of their life, and I can only assume the phone was once Not Jason's. There are pictures of him and Jason eating lunch in a truck. Jason, posing in front of a large white building in Candor, ignoring the members in black and white behind him. Not Jason holding up two plates of chicken fingers in a very upscale restaurant while everyone else is eating salad. A woman in the infirmary, wearing a mask and glaring at someone at a desk. Someone with a broken leg. People fighting in a large, open area while a crowd watches. A supply closet filled to the brim with weapons and ammunition and a sign that demands to keep the door locked. Another sign tacked below it demands they use a better font.

Not Jason's office, decorated as I would expect, with all kinds of weird trinkets and toys.

Jason's office, neat and organized, including his poster of ghost sightings in Dauntless.

I slow down as I get to the end, wishing there were more, but NJ only left so many on here.

The last few are of Eric, looking up at his friend. His expression is far less brutal and intense than I've seen. He's dressed up in a way I wouldn't think he'd want to be, but there he is, in a dark suit jacket and a dark tie, and his hair is slicked back entirely.

I stare at that one for a long time.

Behind him, staring with a rather vicious, possessive intensity, is a woman. She's tall and thin, and her blonde hair is evenly arranged in uniform waves that hang down to the very formal dress she has on. I would say she's really pretty, far prettier than anyone I've ever seen, but she looks oddly angry. You can see it in her eyes, and the way her hands are curled into fists.

The last one is just Eric.

Reclining back in an elegant dining room, smirking while he holds a heavy glass of some dark drink, sneering at the camera. It's a party of some sort, and I can pick out a few people in the background I recognize. Johanna, frowning as a man in grey leans close to her, and Jack Kang, holding court off to the side.

Not Jason, wearing an obnoxiously bright pink jacket, making a face behind Eric.

It's with great disappointment I realize there are no more. I tap on a few more icons, hoping one will reveal something cool, and it doesn't take long before I find where Not Jason kept his notes. I can't decide if he's left them here on purpose, or if he forgot to delete them.

The first one makes me smile, though I would bet it would make Eric furious.

I read it a few times, over and over, until I've memorized the words.

_Eric Coulter: Best friend in the whole world. Height, too tall. Weight, too many muscles to count, but will show you if you ask. Nickname: None assigned but I will ask his new lover. Dislikes: Everyone and everything. Enjoys: Hair gel, long walks through Dauntless, writing his secrets in a Hello Kitty diary, murder, and small girls from Amity. See also: Researching how to kidnap your crush when you can't think of a valid way to get her out of her stupid faction._

This time, the factionless are plenty.

They fan out like a wave, swarming the land with practiced ease. The largest ones, dressed in the darkest clothing, walk in a uniformed succession until someone tells them to stop. I'm frozen when the action is familiar, and my stomach feels like I swallowed a ton of bricks when I recognize the formation from Not Jason's photo.

The Dauntless soldiers lined up the same way.

"What is going on?"

Sophia tries to keep her voice low. She elbows me, then smooths down her hair when someone looks our way. We both smile a little too brightly, and once the guy is reassured we're just two bumbling girls from Amity, he turns away. He shivers, yanking his worn coat tighter, and ducks his head down.

The night air is colder than it has been. It hints that it will be winter soon, and we'll be forced inside. The winters aren't kind at all; once the first snow hits, it's over. The bonfires cease, the farmers shift their focus to the livestock, and the greenhouses are fully staffed. My father's workload is lessened in the winter thanks to the extra hands, but given the way things were going, it was unlikely he'd spend his free time at home.

He and my mother seemed to be avoiding each other for their own reasons.

"You're shitting me. They're congregating here? Just…in the middle of the woods? Does Johanna know this?" Sophia's voice rises up as she takes in the scene before her, and it threatens to blow our cover. "Everly, are you listening to me?!"

"Yes! Shut up!" I shove her forward, forcing us to get lost in a group who aren't so orderly, and she gets the hint to quiet down. "Landon brought me here once but there weren't as many of them. I think some work in Amity. Some are clearly factionless."

My plan to join the crowd works. We follow men and women deeper into the woods, keeping close together. They talk noisily amongst themselves, ignoring us completely. Some are dressed normally; their clothes are clean and Amity-ish, and some aren't as nice. Plenty of them are dirty and unkempt, but no one seems to mind. They mingle easily, sharing secrets and swapping stories of who saw so and so, and where.

I try to listen, but Sophia's bravery lessens to a startling degree as we walk.

"Don't be mad, but I think we should go back. We're outnumbered." Her eyes are wider than I've ever seen them, and she slows down. "Everly, I love you and all, and I fully support you kicking Landon's ass because he's a total jerk, but we're going to get-"

"You're going to kick Landon's ass?"

To my horror, we are joined by none other than Landon's newest best friend. Tobias has somehow managed to find us in the wave of people, and he matches his walk to ours.

"Isn't that a little violent for someone from Amity?"

"Isn't forming an army of factionless frowned upon?" I answer quickly, and to his credit, he nods.

"Usually. I can't say I disagree with you." Tobias keeps his hands in his pockets, and I notice he's just as awkward as ever. "I'm surprised to see you here. Landon said you had no interest in joining."

"I don't," I look up at him, and I try to figure out where I think he's from. He still doesn't come across as truly factionless, but he doesn't seem particularly threatening.

Or kind.

"Are you training them? Is that why he's hanging out with you?" I stumble over a step in the woods where the land drops, and he catches my arm. He lets go the second I regain my footing, and he steps away from me immediately. "Uh, thanks. Sorry. I didn't see the ground change."

"Don't mention it," he mutters, and his stare is glued to the person in front of us.

"What's your name again? Tobias?"

He flinches.

It's so slight I'm sure Sophia misses it. But after spending some time with Eric, the king of stoic facial expressions, I've gotten pretty good at reading people who don't want you to know how they feel.

Which is exactly what the look on Tobias' face is telling me.

"I can call you something else." I suggest, and next to me, Sophia squeaks when the forest opens up to reveal where we are really headed. The line is long, coming to a stop a good distance away, and is jam packed with people waiting. "What is everyone here for? Is this your training class?"

"No," Tobias shakes his head. "It's not a training class. They're here for dinner. The meeting is after. Are you staying?"

"Everly, I don't think this is smart," Sophia yanks on my arm, and our walk slows even more as we near the more crowded area. "Is Landon even here? We're just going to wait and what? Eat with the factionless?"

"I don't know," I hiss back at her, and I have to admit, my plan is not a smart one.

Days ago, Eric had given me a phone to call him.

He'd kissed me in his truck, slid his hand beneath my skirt, told me he missed me, and walked me home. Out of everything he could have done, the blurted out confession threw me off the most. He'd said it while his mouth was on my skin, and it came up like he couldn't stop himself. When he pulled away a moment later, I knew he hadn't planned to say anything of the sort to me, and he verbally confirmed this.

My ego wanted to be hurt; it wanted to remind me I was not who Eric wanted, or should want. Dauntless had to be full of girls who were a little more his speed. I'm sure they were dangerous; just as pierced and tattooed, just as brave and outgoing and not wearing anything pink. Mysterious even. Everyone I had met from Dauntless came with secrets, and the only secret I had was that I had picked the wrong faction.

I was sure of it.

When my mother didn't utter a single word to discourage me from talking to Eric, I knew she'd made a mistake, too. It might have been long ago, or maybe it was recent, but something was up, because she wasn't happy, either.

Despite her attempts.

Living in Amity made it easy to pretend. If you couldn't cover up your secrets or whatever past you were trying to escape, we had a way to make sure you didn't think about it. I'd watched my mother live this lie, slowly sipping away at a tea that would make her forget why she was struggling. My mother had clearly given up someone she loved, or at the very least had some emotional connection to, because she was just as stuck as I was.

My theory, based off the journal and the loose evidence I'd brilliantly pieced together, led me to believe that person was from Dauntless.

That didn't make my secret anything worthy of having Eric's attention. I had no idea who he went home to or if he was telling me the truth. I believed he was, and Not Jason's notes confirmed Eric liked me enough that he had taken notice. But I wasn't so sure I could compete with girls who were fearless, even if I wanted to.

In a moment of sheer brilliance, I'd decided I would prove to Eric I am just as brave as he is.

Once I caught wind of Landon's next gathering, I asked Sophia to go with me. Thrilled to be on an adventure, we ate dinner with her parents, and cheerfully announced we were going for a walk. We said we would be gone a while, and neither of them batted an eye. We had gone to the Dome, hoping to see people milling around, or some sort of indication as to where Landon was, but it didn't take long to figure out where we needed to go.

The factionless strolled around the Dome like they owned the place, then headed into the woods.

We had followed along like we belonged without any issues, but now, I can tell Sophia wants to go back.

My plan was simple: Go to wherever Landon was training this army, snap a picture or two, and get out of there. I would call Eric when I got home, since I had no clue how to send him a picture or if that was even a possibility, and he would have enough evidence to…do whatever it was he planned on doing.

It was a good plan. Solid. Reasonable. Fun. But now, it was falling apart because I hadn't properly warned Sophia what she would see.

The factionless are quite the group. Their numbers rivaled the Amity faction, and there are so many appearing out of nowhere, it's hard to keep track of how many there are. They are a variety of ages; some are small children, dirty but having the time of their lives, and some are my age. Some are older, closer to my parents, and some are very old, having lived most of their lives without a faction to call home.

I take all this in, while Sophia hyperventilates.

"Is your friend okay? Tobias scratches at his neck, and we both watch her turn pale. "I know. It's a lot to see. If you've never seen the factionless together before, you'd never know how many there really are."

"Are you one of them?" I glance over at his shirt, a dark steel grey, and he doesn't answer me. "You aren't factionless, are you?"

"No."

"Wait, you aren't factionless? You have like, the worst haircut ever. And your pants don't fit." Sophia snaps out of whatever trance she was in, and she looks at Tobias like he just said he wants to live on the moon. "Everly said you're helping. Why would you help them if you have a faction to go home to?"

"Why do you feed them?" He retorts, and her insults must have irritated him. "I'm helping because I want to make a difference. And this is the opportunity for that."

"Are you close with Landon?" I try to change the subject, because I get the feeling our friend is about to storm off. He crosses his arms over his chest, and he exhales in sheer exasperation. "Or did you meet him here?"

"I'm not close with anyone here," he snaps, and our fleeting moment of friendship is gone. "I met Landon a while back. He wanted a bigger part in helping, and he got it. He was so sure you'd be thrilled to join him, and since you didn't, I've been the one to who gets to listen to him bitch about it. He said you'd be easy to convince."

"So you think I'm dumb for not wanting to join the factionless army?" My fingers itch to snap his picture, but he's so skittish I bet he'd bolt the second he saw the phone. "Or do you think this is a little bit too much now?"

"Why do you care what I think?"

"Are you always this fun? You must be a real hit at parties," Sophia interrupts, and she moves to stand between us. "Why are you even walking with us? Because it seems like you despise the mere sight of Everly and me, and we aren't here for you. We're looking for Landon. That's it. We didn't come here to see you. Or to hear about how you don't have any friends."

"Sophia!" I stare at her in horror, because despite my appreciation for her bravery, she's coming across as totally rude.

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. I…I am so cold, and I'm really freaked out, and there are so many factionless here that I'm having a hard time breathing. They could take over our faction. They're everywhere. There's more in the woods. I just want to find Landon so we can say we saw him and get back home. I told my mom I'd be home by ten and-"

She stops speaking altogether, and her stare flies upward. I turn to see what she's looking at, and I'm met with the face of Evelyn, smiling down at us, pleased as ever.

"We're so happy you could join us."

I immediately decide I do not like Evelyn.

For one, she is terrifying. Not in an outward way, like Eric. If you looked at Eric, you could tell he could beat you to a pulp. He'd openly admit he'd kill you and no one would find you. He oozed authority and order, and best of all, he knew it. His arrogance was one of his defining characteristics, and I found it oddly endearing. I'd never met anyone who just took what they wanted, and let no obstacle stand in their way to get it.

Evelyn is sort of like that, but she doesn't look scary.

She looks weathered; worn and beaten down and determined to never feel that way again. It was like she'd hit the lowest of lows, accepted it, but she refused to stay there. Her scariness came from her determination because it wasn't very honest. Her reasoning for wanting this isn't honest. I could tell her desire for a better world could be good. She could have a cause everyone would want to join, if it weren't for the glimpses of her real personality and motives.

They glimmered through even though she tried to hide them.

She is cunning, almost as much as Eric. She's taken a population of men and women who have nothing and given them something they couldn't refuse. What they needed more than anything. What they craved.

She gave them hope. With her carefully chosen words, she'd promised she'd make things better for them, and all they had to do was help her fix a broken system. I'm sure there was a tragic backstory to her that they'd already unlocked, and it would only sweeten the deal of pledging their loyalty for freedom. In their eyes, she was the underdog they were all rooting for, and they willingly let her lead the pack.

She is mean.

Tobias hangs around, talking with others and sneaking looks in her direction. I can tell he wants to speak with her, even his night isn't going very well. He'd slunk away once Sophia announced he didn't have any friends and Evelyn showed up, and he reappeared when we sat down with her. I half expected Evelyn to wave him over, for I had the feeling he was an important part of her plan, and it was obvious he did, too.

But she ignored him.

Purposely.

She let him stand on the side, doing his best not to look like he wanted her attention. The look on his face made me feel uneasy, because it was the same look Zander threw when no one was answering him.

Evelyn is a lot of other things, too.

She is sneaky. Healthier looking than her army, and cleaner. Her curly hair is dark, but not entirely out of control, and her outfit is neat. She wears her clothes like armor; thick, rich fabrics, fairly new looking boots, and a jacket that our farmers wore when they worked out in colder temperatures.

She is vile.

She smiled and praised the few who came up to talk to her, gifting them her time. She listened to their heartache, their stories, their woes carefully arranged to evoke the utmost sympathy from her. Some hadn't eaten in days. Some didn't know where their wives had gone. Someone had lost a child in the woods and had yet to find them. Some were new, unsure of how this world worked, and some were silent.

Evelyn listens to all of this with a very patient smile. She directs and commands depending on what they need. Some were sent to eat dinner, the line still going strong but the food supply endless. Some were sent to get different clothes. There was a smaller group handing out things more appropriate for cold weather, and they'd either been scavenged or donated. She sent some to look for the lost boy, and some to look for wives. Others were welcomed, and she promised she'd never turn her back on them, not like their former factions had.

They ate out of the palm of her hand, obeying without question.

She let me witness all this, all to prove her cause.

"We really can't stay long," I answer, and Evelyn doesn't press the issue.

My presence is a win for her, no matter why I was here.

"You should go say hello to Landon. He's helping pass out the dinners. I'm sure he'd love to see you," Evelyn murmurs, and there's an elegance to her that's jarring. She waves at me dismissively, like I'd come to see her and only her, and her eyes linger over my dress. "He was just mentioning how you were…resistant to starting a new life with him. He said you don't fit into Amity very well."

I had stood up once she waved me away, but now I stop in front of her. Knowing she had my attention, having already figured out this is a sore subject for me, she reaches out to touch my wrist. Her fingers are cold and rough, and she fixes my sleeve. She adjusts the fabric so it's right side out, and from a distance, it must look motherly. A few of her army smile warmly at me, but I can't move.

Her touch is absolutely sterile. It's all for show, even as she gestures for me to hand her my other arm.

"I'm fine," I try to protest, but Sophia gestures wildly for me to just do it. She'd been sitting silent this whole time, taking everything in. I had to give her credit, despite wanting to bolt, she'd stuck right by me, and I was grateful she'd come along. "Um, thank you. I will go say goodbye before we leave. And I fit into Amity just fine. He's not…. Landon doesn't fit in here. He shouldn't be here."

"He doesn't fit in entirely, that's true." Evelyn touches my other wrist, and for a single moment, her hand encircles it completely. "Perhaps you and he are more alike than you think."

I jerk my hand away from her, and I take a step back.

"I'm nothing like him," I answer hotly, and before I inform her he's cruel and manipulative, she smiles.

Slyly.

"Violent little thing, aren't you?"

I recoil like she's punched me, and Sophia leaps up. She grabs my arm, and pulls me away from Evelyn, past Tobias and his forced neutral stare, and into the buzzing crowd. By now, the sun has long set, and the sky is a brilliant navy.

"Okay, okay, fuck her. You take your…your picture or whatever and we leave. I'll cover you. We run back as fast as we can and fuck, you better call Eric because that chick is going to show up and kill you. Or tell everyone you punched Landon and then you'll have to join her stupid army. I can't think of what could be worse."

"He must have told her," I half whisper, and I follow Sophia through the crowd. She's an expert as she darts between the taller ones, and we arrive on the other side of the clearing in no time. "Okay, here. This is good. I can see the line, and I should be able to get Landon helping them and-"

My mouth falls open, but no words come out.

"And? And what? Everly?" Sophia's words float up into the night sky, stinging my ears as they pass over me. "Everly? Did you take it? You didn't even show me the phone he gave you. I want to see it. We should take a picture of us."

She keeps talking, chatting away to keep us both calm, but it's a lost cause.

My world shatters in a way I'm unprepared for, and I can barely snap the photo. I tilt the phone up, clicking on the camera icon, and I keep it low. It's not noticeable at all. Everyone around us is busy, and the phone barely makes a noise as it takes the photo.

I take another, then another, then another, desperately pushing the button over and over, but I won't be able to send Eric any of them.

There, standing beside Landon and helping pass out dinners, is my father.

"You hungry?"

Forrest shoves a plate at me, and he plunks down into the chair across from me. His kitchen table is new. It's smaller than the one my father had built for us and more polished. His whole house is startling different. It's quiet and cold, laid out opposite of ours, and empty.

Every sound echoes, including my exhale.

"Sort of. I told mom I'd be back for dinner, but I'm not really hungry." I pull the plate closer, and the noodles and chicken and gravy are expertly prepared. "Did you make this?"

"I did. This may surprise you, but Willow isn't exactly the best cook. But she's learning. She said no one ever taught her." Forrest looks at me through a mess of hair, and he shrugs. "I don't care. I know how to cook. I can cook anything."

"What about a frog?"

I pick up my fork to poke at the chicken, and he rolls his eyes.

"Sure. I'll have frog legs ready for you next time you come over, your royal highness."

I smile, and I try to think of the best way to ask him why he wasn't at the factionless meeting. I was also trying to think of what to call it. On our walk home, Sophia had talked nonstop. She ran through the events of our evening, starting with running into Tobias and declaring him enemy number one, right up until I took the picture of us, having successfully made it back home and to the safety of the stables.

My mind swam with everything we'd witnessed, and I tried to remember every single detail. It felt impossible; each moment was something I felt like Eric should have known about, yet I couldn't really pick which part bothered me most.

Of course, my father's presence there was worrisome. I couldn't fathom telling Eric my own dad was involved, and my only hope was that he didn't know what he was doing. It was possible he believed whatever Landon was telling him, and Landon had left out the army building agenda. He'd probably asked if he'd help in feeding some families who needed it, then revealed it was more than he could handle alone.

My father would help, but that was only because he had no reason not to.

"What's wrong, Squirt? You look miserable. Did your…Dauntless meathead not show back up today? I heard from Sophia that one of them is madly in love with you. Which won't last once they realize how annoying you are."

"Funny. Almost as funny as how terrible this dinner is." I glare at him, and I take a bite of a noodle. I chew it for a while, pretending it's gross and impossible to eat, and he leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's not over cooked and you know it. Sorry I said you were annoying. Don't you dare insult my cooking just because your knight in shining armor got stuck admiring his own reflection while he parts his hair to the side."

"I don't have a thing going on with anyone, nor do I care about their hair." I smile brightly, knowing he doesn't believe my lie at all. "I just…look, I went to another one of Landon's meetings. I thought maybe you'd be there."

"Oh yeah, why? You thinking of joining?" Forrest's interest is piqued. "It was huge, wasn't it? It was the rally night, I think. He invited Willow and me, but we didn't go."

"Why?" I reach for the water he'd poured, and he shrugs. "You aren't joining anymore?"

"I was never joining," Forrest toys with his own fork. "I went a few times because Landon wanted someone from Amity to see what was going on. He thought maybe he could sway Johanna's stance on a few things. He wanted her to say she'd help Evelyn, but the best he got was her agreeing to help feed them. She didn't think an army was a smart option."

"Was Willow factionless? Is that where you met her?"

Forrest stares back at me, stalling by moving his pasta around his plate. "I met her there, but does it matter? She's not factionless now."

"No, it doesn't matter!" I promise, and I hope he doesn't think I really care. Willow seemed unbelievably nice, and if Forrest married her, he had to be happy. "I really like Willow. Where is she?"

"She's uh, sleeping. She doesn't feel so good," Forrest answers, and he swallows down a large forkful of dinner. "But she'll be bummed she missed you."

"Why doesn't she feel good? Is she pregnant? You've been married for like, forty-five seconds." I point out logically, and he makes a face.

"Yeah, well I've known her for a while now. But no, she's not pregnant. She's got a cold or something. Mom said she'd make her something to take but she forgot. I went over there the other night, but you and Sophia had left and mom was waiting for Dad to come home. She said he must be busy at work."

"He's wasn't at work," I sit up straighter. "He was there with Landon. They were serving dinner to the factionless." I wait while Forrest thinks about this, and he doesn't look like he believes me.

"I'm serious! I saw him. I took a picture of him and-"

"How'd you take a picture? With what? Your mind?" Forrest laughs at his own joke. "No, for real, Everly. How'd you take a picture?"

"Eric gave me a phone." I wait while he tries not to look impressed, but he clearly is. "He said I can call him if I need help and he'll come here."

"Wow, how kind of him," Forrest snorts. "What'd you do to get that? Agree to marry the guy?"

"No, I just told him about Landon," I answer back irritably, and he drops his fork.

"Fuck! Everly! You want him to kill Landon or what? I know you don't like the guy, but Dauntless doesn't like the factionless. Not one bit. You basically told him who to hunt down."

"He said they haven't found any reason to do anything yet. And besides, Landon came after me. I would think you'd be happy for me," I scowl, and I realize out of everyone in Amity, I thought Forrest would have my back. "Why are you so upset?"

"Because I don't need him coming after my wife!" Forrest is furious, and I hate the look on his face. "What if he shows up here? What if he knocks our door down and –" "

"He's not coming after you or Willow. And she's married to you so if she was factionless, she isn't now. So chill. I just…he's the only person who believed that Landon hurt me. Other than Paisley and Holly, and they can't help me at all."

"Holly and Paisley know?"

"Yeah. Dad still doesn't believe me. I kind of wonder if he'd believe them." I sigh, and I try to imagine them telling him about Landon. "Maybe he wouldn't want to help if they told him Landon is up to no good."

"I don't know, Everly. He's really close with Jerry. I think he can't see anything wrong with Landon. Like, there's no way his friend's son would hurt you. He probably doesn't want to believe it."

"Yeah, well he should." I mumble, and I push the plate away. "I can't show Eric the pictures because Dad is in them. I don't want him to get in trouble. But I don't think Landon told him what's going on."

"Probably not," Forrest agrees. He moves his fork around aimlessly. "Are you going to tell Eric? Or send him the pictures?"

I shake my head no.

"I'll just…I'll tell him what I saw. I should tell him about Evelyn. I don't think he knows they have a leader."

"Everly," Forrest looks right at me, and for the first time since I've seen him, he looks oddly nervous. "You do realize there is no way their leader is going to let you know about them and not be a part of their army? You know her name. You know where they meet. She'd be stupid to let you stay in Amity with that sort of information. Even if Landon swears you won't tell a soul."

He's not wrong.

I hadn't thought of this, but I do now.

I nearly drop my own fork, and I realize I have no choice but to tell Eric everything I know.

Before Evelyn figured out I had a connection to someone who could stop her and decided to act upon it.

My days were numbered here, and everyone but me knew it.

"Shit."

"Don't be afraid. I'm just here to investigate a little homicide. Nothing crazy."

A day later, Not Jason sits at our kitchen table, flashing a blinding grin. He has the full attention of everyone; Holly and Paisley sat down immediately upon his arrival, and Wesley and Leif just happened to be in the kitchen when he knocked on the door. My mother answered it, and he strolled right past her and cheerfully announced he was here on murder charges.

"This probably shook the Amity faction, I know." He looks around the house quickly, tossing his hair around and tilting his head. It falls into his eyes, and he shakes his head viciously to move it. When that doesn't work, he parts it to the other side, and the exaggerated style makes it look even longer.

"Can you have hair like that in Dauntless? What if someone pulls it?" Paisley stares at him, and her eyes hold the affection of someone who'd just developed a crush on the wrong person. "What if someone grabs it?"

"They'd never even try," NJ declares, and he leans back to look at her. "I'd kill them. No one touches my hair. I just washed it."

I try very hard not to laugh, because he flips his hair again, just to prove how nice it is.

Rylan, though his official name made me smile because it felt wrong after calling him NJ, is a thrilling sight. Unlike Eric, he's less threatening and more enthused to be here. His uniform jacket is halfway unbuttoned, his boots aren't even laced all the way, and his hair is loose and everywhere, rather than pulled back. He looks more like he could be from here, especially when he accepts the coffee my mother makes him, and drinks it without pausing to ask if there is anything in it.

"Anyway, I'm here on a special assignment. We got a few complaints from Johanna about some small town murders, and I'm here to check them out. You can rest easy once I'm done here."

"Who was murdered?" I ask slowly, and Rylan turns to look at me. He grins even wider and flips his hair back to the other side.

"Don. Don…his last name is something with an L. I didn't read the report all the way."

"Did Carole report this murder? Or Johanna?" I drink my own tea, wishing I wasn't. My mother hadn't forgotten her recommendation that I start drinking it, but I was confident there was nothing in it. It tasted okay. Boring and bland and I didn't feel any different considering I'd been on the same cup for twenty minutes. "You realize this murder you were called here for…is a chicken? And I'm pretty sure Carole did it."

"Human, chicken, same priority." Rylan waves dismissively, and he eyes the plate of cookies in front of Paisley. "Can I have one of those?"

"Sure," she answers, slowly pushing the plate at him. Her eyes are glued to his shirt, the bright blue visible beneath his jacket, and his hair, falling down near the middle buttons. "Have as many as you want."

"Thanks Amity Junior." Rylan winks, and I watch him take six cookies. "So, does anyone have any leads on this case? Before I head over there."

"Everly just told you Carole did it," Holly says, and she's elbowed by Wesley. He and Leif have been sitting quietly, just staring.

Both in surprise and awe.

"What?"

"Are you sure Carole killed Don?" Wesley looks at her, and she shrugs. "She's nice. Weird, but nice."

"She killed him. Whacked him. You can't convince me it didn't happen," Holly crosses her arms and looks insulted. "Everyone knows this."

"There's zero evidence of that happening," Leif counters, and Rylan leans in.

"Have you all been investigating this? Eric said this was a high-profile case but…"

"Really? Eric said a chicken murder was a high-profile case?" I can't help but laugh this time, and Rylan winks.

"Okay, maybe he didn't use those words, but he implied it." Rylan eats the cookie in two bites and looks around. "He said to tell you hello, by the way. Not in those words, either, but I'm fluent in Eric."

"Is he here?" Holly asks, failing to sound casual at all. "Is he also investigating the murder?"

"Unfortunately, Coulter is not here. He is in Candor for a meeting. But I happily came in his place. Though he sends his regards. Or something. I don't know, I wasn't really listening because sometimes he gets really worked up and kicks everyone out of his office." Rylan finishes his tea and sighs. "So, can any of you tell me where Carole lives? Mrs. Carlen? You want to join me?"

He throws my mother a winning smile. She's been standing at the sink this entire time, watching Rylan with a look of amusement on her face.

"I'll walk there with you. Do you want some cookies to take back with you? I don't think your investigation will take long." She answers him brightly, and her mood is far better than this morning. She'd been sort of down all day, and only cheered up once he arrived. "I could give you some for Eric, too."

Not Jason's eyes light up.

He tilts his chair back, so far it threatens to tip over, and he looks at me.

"I think there's nothing our fearless leader would like more than such a gift."

This time, the air is even sharper.

"Did you find the murderer?"

I walk Rylan back to his truck, enjoying the quiet and the cold. He'd returned to our house a few hours ago. He'd stayed for dinner, mostly because my mother insisted and he seemed oddly unwilling to say no to her, and he was the center of attention.

He liked this.

He answered every question Wesley and Leif had about Dauntless –yes it was dark, yes it was dangerous, and fuck, yes, you could easily fall and die and no one would ever find you. He answered Holly and Paisley's questions, too – yes Eric lived there, no he didn't have a girlfriend, yes he despised anyone who thought they would date him, and yes, he'd seen Eric without his jacket on. He winked at me, every time he answered a question, like this was information I needed. I nearly choked when he told me Eric had been texting him all night, and he hadn't responded to a single message other than to announce he was eating dinner and he'd call him later.

His phone rang six times, and Rylan refused to answer it.

All in all, the dinner was nice. Rylan was funny. He was unfazed by our large family, and he even tolerated Zander staring at him. Zander didn't look at Rylan the way he looked at Harrison, but instead never moved his stare from him, even while he ate. He shoved noodle after noodle into his mouth, all while watching Rylan.

Anyone else would have nervously laughed or tried to leave, but Rylan took it in stride.

I offered to walk him out, and my mother shoved an entire selection of desserts at me to carry.

"Oh yeah, Carole totally did it. She even offered me some chicken fingers, but I couldn't eat them. I'm not some sort of monster." Rylan walks slowly, clearly enjoying his stroll through Amity and in no rush to leave. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I shrug, wondering what he could possibly be curious about.

"Are you…you're really eighteen?" Rylan does his best not to look at me. "Because you're really short and Jason and I were thinking maybe you weren't actually eighteen. Or maybe you are older than eighteen and just still short."

He looks hopeful.

"I'm eighteen," I laugh. "But I could get taller. Who knows?"

"Okay, second question. You really aren't dating anyone here?"

This time, he can't help but look at me. He looks away quickly, but he waits for my answer.

"No. My options would be Landon, who wants me to join some stupid factionless army, or some farmer who will expect me to make him dinner and have thirty children." I answer tightly, and Rylan jerks his head toward me.

"I heard about the army. We're…working on it," Rylan pauses. "And that's way too many kids. Okay, third question-"

"You don't want to know about the army?" I stare at him, ignoring the few members of Amity walking past us. They look worried, but they smile anyway, and slip by without saying anything. "Isn't that something you guys look for?"

"Oh yeah. We're all over it. Eric is heading up that committee, but he had to take today off to go see Jack. Something about serum approval for Jeanine. He works with her, too. I'm sure he told you that. She's not so worried about the factionless, but the Divergent. Eric was all gung ho for a while, but he's not so much anymore. He's been…busy with other things." Rylan waves at May, staring at him from her porch. She waves back and yells out that she's sorry the ducks tried to bite him. "No, it's fine. I got an antibiotic. No worries. I bought new pants, too."

"You got bitten by a duck?" I can't help but ask, and he nods enthusiastically.

"Twice. It's fine. May is lovely. Kind of odd, but very nice." Rylan points up ahead, and groans. "Damn it. We're almost to the truck. I didn't get to ask all my other questions."

"Okay, well I can answer them." I stop, and he does, too. "What else did you want to ask me?"

"Is your name really Everly? Or is that sort for something?"

"No, it's Everly," I try to think of what it could be short for, but I come up with nothing. "Is that it?"

"Do you like pizza? We have a really good pizza place in Dauntless. Harrison owns it, and sometimes, he lets me help him pick the weekly specials. Only sometimes, though. If I can find him." Rylan blurts all this out, and then his eyes widen. "Have you ever had a squirrel for a pet? Can you? Answer me honestly. Harrison said no. He's in charge of Fish and Game, but I think he's lying, Everly. He said a squirrel would not thrive in Dauntless and not to bring one back."

He's dead serious.

He waits patiently, and I struggle to figure out how he's real.

"Um, well…"

"You can skip the pizza question. Just tell me about the squirrel."

"I think they'd make a terrible pet. We only have pets like…you know, a sheep or the chickens or maybe a donkey if you're really into animals." I watch his mind whirl, and he shakes his head.

"I don't want a donkey. There are enough asses in Dauntless already. So you're saying the squirrel is a no. Even if I had a squirrel enclosure?" Rylan reaches for the cookies, and I notice he has a few black bracelets on his wrist. They are rubber, and some are linked together. "Squirrel palace?"

"Did you steal a squirrel from here? Because most of them are wild, and I'm pretty sure if they bite you, you'll get sick," I try to point this out gently, and he looks crushed. "Maybe if you found a baby squirrel or something."

"Okay, I'll look into that." He takes the plate from me, and he smiles. "Thanks again. This was an enjoyable murder investigation."

"You're welcome. Thanks for staying for dinner." I watch him clutch the plate to his chest and he doesn't want to leave. "Do you want to ask me something else?"

"I do, but I don't want to be rude, and Eric said my questions could come across as rude. He made me tell him the ones I was going to ask. He vetoed most of them."

"Okay, well…maybe think of a different way to ask it?" I suggest this option, too curious for him not to ask me.

"You can be patient, right? I mean, everyone here is patient, so that shouldn't be too hard. Right?" Rylan stares at me intently, and I shrug.

"Sure?"

"Just…don't…don't give up on him. He's not good at any of this. He doesn't know how to talk to anyone unless he's yelling at them, and he doesn't know how to say things nicely. So if you can just give him a chance, maybe…maybe you can come to Dauntless and you won't have to marry Landon. And we could all get pizza sometime. Just be patient and he'll figure all this out."

"Are you talking about Eric?" I ask, but Rylan's phone rings, and he looks startled.

"Shit. I forgot to call him back. He's probably losing his mind. That or Jack drove him nuts," Rylan juggles the plate to answer his phone, and he pauses once he says hello. "Stay clear of Carole. There's something odd about her. Bye Everly!"

Our conversation comes to an end before he can explain who he is talking about.

Rylan takes off, throwing the door to the truck open and climbing in easily. He waves as the engine roars, and a second later, the truck lurches in reverse at a frightening speed. He whips it around, terrifyingly fast for such a large vehicle, and is driving out of the faction like a speed demon.

I watch until I can't see him anymore, and I really hope he didn't try to steal any animals from here.

Especially a squirrel.

The ringing starts while I try to comb out my hair.

I've already thrown on the nightgown I'd pulled out, but the brush sticks in my wet hair, tangling spectacularly and getting caught in the straps along with my hair. It's a losing battle, and I wince when I hit my elbow on the sink.

"Mother effer!" Dang it!" I drop the brush completely when I try to rip it out, and I accidentally kick it out of my way. "I knew I shouldn't have let Zander touch my hair."

I fumble for the brush on the ground, hoping to go to bed sooner rather than later.

My life was back to not going so great. Rylan had left three days ago. I hadn't seen anyone from Dauntless, nor my father. He was here less and less, throwing himself presumably into work, and it left my mother in quite the state. She was either downing peace serum by the cupful, or cheerfully announcing she'd be right back, and not returning for hours. That left me with Zander to entertain and I had to bring him to my own initiation when she lost track of the days. He was fine. Zander liked going along with me, but today was draining. Sophia was mad at me for not telling Eric what we saw, and Courtney was mad, too. Both demanded I call him right then and there, but I couldn't.

We had finger painting scheduled, and the day flew by before I could do anything. My mother wasn't home when I got home, and neither was anyone else. I had to make Zander something to eat for dinner, and by eight pm, I'd had enough. I put Zander to bed despite his protest that he wasn't tired, told the few stragglers who showed up to find their own dinner, and went to take a bath. I tried to undo the mess Zander had created in my hair, while simultaneously trying to figure out if I should call Eric.

He hadn't called me.

I was wondering if maybe he really had made a mistake by telling me he missed me. Maybe the only thing he missed was kissing me in the woods and sneaking around like this was some sort of game and telling me otherwise was a mistake.

I'd reluctantly accepted this as truth and sulked in the bath until the water turned cold and I had to get out. I had just decided I could call and explain what I saw, when he called me.

"Are you alive, Amity?"

I answered on the fourth ring. His name was lit up on the screen, and for one second, I couldn't bring myself to push answer.

But I did.

"I'm alive. I just…I didn't want to bug you." My voice sounds small in my own ears, and Eric notices right away.

"What's wrong Amity? Another chicken death? Or did Carole move on to actual humans this time?"

"No, it's not that. The chickens are alive. So are our members. At least that I know of," I smile at no one, sinking onto my bed and against the oversized pillows. I move the covers back, so I can slide beneath them, and he's quiet. "I don't really know what Carole is up to, but I'm a little worried about Jerry. Maybe you should check on him. Or…maybe Rylan should come back and investigate."

"Don't tell him that. He's already trying to figure out a way to get back there," Eric mutters, and I hear him sigh. "He said he's very interested in hearing what someone named Joe thinks. He said the next-door neighbor was trying to get his attention the whole time and yelled to come back and ask for Joe. Do you know Joe?"

"Everyone knows Joe," I lean back further, and I wonder where Eric is. "He's a little…out there. But hey, Rylan was a big hit. My family really enjoyed having him over for dinner." I pause, and there's more quiet noise in the background. "You could come for dinner sometime. I think you and my mom really hit it off. Or maybe you should come talk to Carole."

He snorts.

"You just want me to come back and visit. Nice try, Amity."

His words catch me off guard. They're dry and sly and far slicker than anything I could say, and it sounds almost flirty when you consider he'd be coming to investigate a potential murder.

Maybe that was his thing.

"I do want you to come back. Actually, there's a fall festival we're hosting. You might enjoy some of the things we have planned." I listen to him…doing something…, and he must be with other people, because I swear I can hear voices talking. "Um, you can paint a pumpkin. Or build a scarecrow. Or…there's a haunted tree walk."

He's quiet. I can hear someone talking, soft and low, then nothing else.

I wonder if I've officially made him reconsider ever speaking to me, because the silence stretches on so long I'm afraid he's hung up.

"Eric?"

"Do you guys really believe your trees are haunted there?" Eric asks incredulously, and I laugh.

"No, it's…we decorate them for the little kids to walk under. It's fun. Sometimes some of the farmers dress up, and the kids get candy and…"

"Where are you?" Eric interrupts, and he's not at all interested in our fall festival. "Are you at home?"

"I'm in bed," I answer without thinking. "Where are you?"

"At home."

He falls silent again and pulling this information out of him isn't as easy when we aren't face to face. Maybe I needed to sit on his lap in order to get him to confess things to me, and I flash back to Rylan, asking me to be patient.

"What does your home look like?" I sit up slightly, trying to hear if someone is walking down the hallway. There is a chance Zander woke up, but fate is on my side. The house is silent, and the only creaking comes with it settling.

"Why? Are you moving?" Eric's answer makes me smile, and I shake my head even though I can't see him. "It's…normal looking. Spacious."

"Is it underground?" I try to remember the drawing I'd seen of Dauntless, and I was more certain than ever it was a map of the faction. "Isn't that claustrophobic?"

"No, it's fine." He answers roughly, then sighs so sharply I can feel it through the phone. "Rylan said you told him about the army. Did you see them again?"

My stomach sinks when he asks. I know I should be telling him, but I can't help but think he's only calling for this information and nothing more. "Yeah, Sophia and I went to the meeting. They have a leader, a woman whose building an army. Landon was there and so was…"

I pause, unable to go on.

"Everly, are you in trouble?" Eric's voice sounds different. It's not sharp or barking at someone, it's low and even and very concerned. "Everly, are you safe? Is someone else there?":

"Everything is wrong," I blurt out, just like he blurted out that he missed me. "I think my mom is sneaking off to see someone, my brother thinks Landon or Evelyn will come looking for me, and my dad was there. He was helping and I don't think he knows what's going on."

I say all of this in a rush, and he is quiet. I have to admit, it feels way better to get it off my chest, but now that I've ousted everyone involved, this will all fall on me.

"Forrest said they won't let me stay in Amity, knowing about the factionless army. He said they'll come looking for me. Evelyn knows my name, and she knows Landon, and he can tell her where I live and…"

"Who is Evelyn?" Eric demands, and when I don't answer, he asks again. "Everly, push the button on the very bottom of the phone. On the bottom left. Push it and wait until it says connect."

"Okay," I answer quickly, and I pull the phone away. At the bottom of the screen are several buttons, but I touch the furthest one, and the screen changes. It says connecting, and a second later, there he is.

Right on my screen, sitting on his own bed.

"Eric?"

"There's a video option. Sometimes Erudite prefers to do their meetings this way, and they want to see everyone," he rolls his eyes, and I have a feeling he finds this feature unnecessary. "Video conferencing works, but it's easily hackable. They haven't figured out a way to stop this yet."

"Is that your house?"

I'm only halfway listening, because I'm staring at him.

His shirt is white, and looser fitting than what he had on under his uniform. His hair isn't so perfect; it's still parted to the side, but looser. He's surrounded by black: black pillows, a black comforter, and the walls are dark. They are a dark grey, but one so dark it looks almost black.

"Is that your house?" He repeats back, and I smile.

Up in the corner of the phone, is me.

Our worlds are complete opposites. My walls are white; they are wood, but painted a light color. The pillows are white, the sheets are white, and my nightgown is white. My comforter is pink, but not obscenely so.

"Yeah, but you know that." I smile, even though he hadn't been in my bedroom. "I got home and no one was here. I had to make Zander dinner, and then I put him to bed when I'd had enough and went and took a bath."

He is still silent.

He's just watching me, his grey eyes fixed on me, and then he looks away. He picks up the remote to something, and pushes a few buttons. The noise from before is gone, and he nods.

"Who is Evelyn? You said they have a leader?"

"She's the one in charge. I think, I think she's promised them a lot of things, and they're listening to her because they don't want to be factionless." I try to put this theory together, because I have no real proof other than what she talked about. "I watched her talk to them and tell them what to do. She had our faction feed them dinner, and I don't know if they really know what's going on. There are so many of them. I have never seen that many factionless before."

Eric's expression tightens.

"When was this?" He leans closer and I close my eyes.

I should have called.

Sophia and Courtney were right to be mad.

"Three days ago."

"I see." His response is what I expect. Tight, annoyed. Reasonably irritated.

"I couldn't tell you because…my dad…I don't want him to get in trouble." I open my eyes to Eric frowning. "You won't go after him, will you?"

"No. As long as he's not the one organizing this," Eric half barks this, and he looks right at me. "You should have told me this days ago. I can get a team out there tomorrow, but now I'm days behind."

"I'm sorry," I answer quickly, and I feel everything between us fade away. He might have kissed me, but I have the feeling I've royally screwed up his chances of catching the factionless in the act. "I thought maybe you saw them on camera or something. There are a ton of them, but I only saw Landon and…"

"The cameras don't work. None of them fucking work. Someone took down the remaining few that do work, and Johanna won't approve a work order. I can force the issue, but Max is waiting just to be cordial. This is…fuck…" He swears loudly, and the screen moves wildly as he stands up. "Were they in the same place?"

"Yes," I hate the way my voice shakes, but I can't help it. He's not joking about haunted trees or Carole. He's storming through wherever he lives, and I catch a blurry swing of his closet. He reaches for a jacket, and he holds the phone in one hand while he shrugs it on.

"Don't go anywhere. Stay home. Don't answer the door if anyone knocks. I need you to tell me where you were and if there was anyone else and…" he stops, and before he can say anything else, the phone disconnects.

It hangs up, and he's gone, leaving nothing behind but an empty black screen.

There is a knock on the front door, and it's loud. It's like someone is banging on it, desperate and frantic and terrifying. Before I can figure out if I should answer it or not, Wesley does.

His scream is loud, so loud that I bolt out of bed, the phone still in my hand, and I sprint downstairs. I nearly trip over the steps and my nightgown, but I make it to the bottom, only to come to a screeching halt.

There, in the entryway of our home, is Rylan, covered in blood.


	12. The Fall Festival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for you patience while I get these chapters added :)

"RYLAN!"

My gasp drowns out Wesley's. He's frozen in place, terrified and unmoving as Rylan strides inside with an odd amount of enthusiasm for someone covered in blood.

"Are you okay?!"

"It's just a scratch. Promise. I just need to use your shower. Hi Everly." Rylan attempts to wipe the blood off his face but he only succeeds in smearing it everywhere. He's a frightening sight, but I soon realize it looks worse than it is. "How are you? You look nice. I wish Eric could see you. He'd probably be in a better mood if he could."

"What on Earth happened?" I leave Wesley standing by him, one hand clamped over his mouth in pure horror, and I reach for some paper towels. I run them under the sink until they are damp, then return to Rylan, standing there, dripping blood all over the floor. "Are you alright? Who did this?"

"I'm fine, just…sort of embarrassed," he sighs, looking disappointed in himself for bleeding everywhere. "I got into it with Carole. She didn't like my nosing around, and when I left, I tripped and hit my face on the railing around the chicken pen. She started screaming, the chickens went everywhere. I'm more mad that I ruined the investigation than anything."

"Oh no," I hand him the towels and he tries to wipe his face off some more. "Do you think it's broken? Why were you back? It's not that big of a deal. It's just one chicken."

"Yeah, well tell that to her. She didn't appreciate my accusing her of anything. She laughed when it started gushing blood. Good thing I remembered where you live." Rylan glances down at his hand, frowns, then looks back at me, and I know whatever he's about to ask is important. "Hey, is your name spelled with a Y, or is i at the end?"

"With a Y," I reach to take the paper towels back from him, and he doesn't want to give them to me. "It's okay, I've held worse. I'll throw them away. Do you want to go wash off the rest? It looks like it's all over you. Wait, maybe you should see someone about it."

"Do you have an infirmary here?" Rylan looks at me, then shakes his head no at the thought of an Amity run clinic. "Actually, I'm alright. I should wash all this off. Where's your bathroom?"

"You can use mine. Upstairs and to the left." I point to the living room. "Should I call someone?"

"No, I'm good! I'll call Eric right after!" Rylan's mood is immediately cheerful, despite still being covered in blood. "Thanks Everly!"

He takes off quickly. He heads up the stairs, his boots thudding heavily as he takes them two at a time, and he sprints, despite the minimal instructions on where to go.

"What is going on?" Wesley whirls around to look at me. He's visibly upset, and his hair flops into his eyes. "Everly, why is he covered in…in…."

"He said he hit his nose and sometimes it bleeds a lot. Remember when Leif accidentally hit you in the face and your nose bled forever?" I try to reason with him, but Rylan showing up covered in blood has freaked him out. "Where are mom and dad? Are they here?"

"They're helping Willow's parents. They invited them over for dinner and they stayed to help them work on their porch. I think her dad is going to work with our dad. I don't know, I got bored and left. Paisley and Holly stayed. Leif is sleeping. I figured you and Zander were sleeping." My brother looks reasonably concerned. "Is he….is this Rylan just going to take a shower upstairs?"

"I mean, he's covered in blood. It's the least we can do to help." I shrug, and Wesley looks like he's not sure any of this makes sense.

"Okay. Well, maybe we should make him some toast or something. I'll try to find him an icepack." Wesley finally moves, and he smiles. "Sort of cool, I guess. But mom won't like the blood on her floor."

"I'll clean it up." I follow him into the kitchen, completely forgetting I was going to call Eric back.

I do wonder if this was just a normal night for Rylan, or if this bloody nose paled in comparison to the things that went on in Dauntless.

Thirty minutes later, it's clear that it wouldn't have mattered if I'd called Eric or not.

Wesley and I are still in the kitchen, and he's been talking my ear off. Sometimes, despite his less than cordial attitude and tendency to make fun of everyone, when no one was around, he opened up and wouldn't stop talking. Tonight is one of those rare times. He tells me all sorts of stuff, like how he liked this girl named Luna and he was pretty sure she liked him but she didn't sit by him at the last bonfire but she did ask him about adopting a minipig but Laney had some for sale and he didn't know anything about the minipigs but he pretended he did and now he was afraid Luna might really have adopted a full sized pig. He went on and on, until the second knock on the door stopped him, and I realize Rylan has yet to come downstairs.

"Who is THAT!?" The stress returns, and he steels himself for a second bloody person at our door. "EVERLY?"

"You know what, you wait here. I'll go answer the door. I'm gonna guess it's someone looking for Rylan."

"Or it's Carole," Wesley hisses, and he watches me. "I'm staying right here. I've seen enough blood for one night. I'm not moving."

"Good plan," I call over my shoulder, and I open the door without looking. I fling it open with more force than necessary, and my eyes widen at the sight before me.

Eric, in his uniform, unsmiling.

"Are you alright?" He doesn't wait for me to invite him in. He stalks past me, and he glances around furiously. "Are you hurt? Is anyone else here?"

His stare is hyper critical. It sweeps over me with the same intensity he'd kissed me with; all-consuming completely brazen, and defiant. Once satisfied that I'm alive, he forces himself not to sneer, and nods in approval.

"Are you alone?"

"What are you doing here?" I stare up at him in total confusion, and he stares down at me. "I'm fine. Am I supposed to be hurt?"

"Your phone hung up. I assumed someone came for you, like you were saying they would. I came here to stop Landon, but I saw Rylan's truck and no Rylan." Eric moves closer to me, and his boots are heavy on the floor. The last time I saw him, he'd had a t-shirt on, but he's in his full uniform now. "What is going on?"

"That's a very good question!" Wesley yells, and I glance at him. He puts his hands on his hips and jerks his head toward the second floor.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened to the phone, it just hung up. But now that you mention him, Rylan is here, and he showed up covered in blood. Right when the phone disconnected." I watch as Eric takes this in, then shuts his eyes. He presses on his temples for a moment, and he misses Wesley sneaking closer to look at his gun.

I look at it, too.

I'd never really noticed he was armed, but it's hard to miss now.

"His own blood or someone else's?"

"It was his. He said he hit his face and his nose started bleeding. I think Carole did it." I answer as his eyes open, and he stares down at me as Wesley less than whispers that I can't prove it was Carole. "He's upstairs taking a shower. Or he was, but it's been a while."

"I'll go get him. It takes him forever to get ready. He's late to every single meeting we ever have." Eric exhales heavily and tilts his head. "You're sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine, I promise. I'll show you where he went. Or where I think he went." I offer, and Eric nods.

"I'm going to stay down here. What do I do if someone else knocks on the door? Are there more of you coming?" Wesley panics, and his expression stays the same when Eric informs him someone else might come by if they find something and just to yell if they did. "Oh good. More Dauntless soldiers. We don't even have enough toast."

"Toast? Why do you need toast?"

Eric looks at me, and I'm reminded of the time I told him I was looking for a chicken.

It feels like ages ago, rather than just a few days, but his expression is just as funny.

I take him by the elbow, ignoring the surprised look on his face, and I shake my head.

"You know what, I'll explain once we find Rylan."

We don't find him.

Eric follows me up the stairs, to the left, and down the hallway. I had been lucky enough to have the one bedroom off to the side, away from everyone else. It came in handy for escaping the family, but it was highly coveted. I often found Paisley or Holly in here, sitting at the desk or trying on my clothes, claiming I had a better mirror than they did. I sometimes found Zander lining up his trucks along my windowsill, and on the rare occasion, I'd found Forrest, ranting about how his room was in between Paisley and Holly's and there was no greater punishment in life.

Eric doesn't know any of this.

He silently follows me into my bedroom, carefully observing everything, and his fingers touch the frame of the bed while I try to figure out if Rylan is in here.

He isn't.

The bathroom door is shut, the lights are off, and there is no water running.

"Okay, I don't know where he could have-"

Eric grabs me before I can tell him I've lost Rylan in the house. It wasn't an impossible scenario; it was very likely Rylan had wandered into another bathroom, but I don't have any time to think about that. Eric pulls me further into the bedroom, toward my bed, then closer to him so he can really inspect me.

"You sure you're okay? No one else came by other than Rylan?" Eric questions me intensely, and when I shake my head no, he still doesn't look convinced. "You were worried earlier."

"I wasn't worried until I talked to my brother. He made a good point. Evelyn is out there trying to build an army and I've seen her. I've heard her talk about it. She won't let me stay here with that information."

"She might if she thinks you aren't smart enough to tell anyone," Eric points out, and my lips part open in surprise. "Maybe Landon told her it was fine. Or he doesn't know you have anyone to tell." He reaches his hand up to touch my hair, and he moves it behind my shoulder. He plays it off like he's expecting to see some bruise or stab wound, but this thumb grazes the side of my neck. "Does he know?"

"Know what?" I can barely answer him, because I feel the same draw as I did the first time I met him. It's worse than the time he kissed me, and even stronger than the time I sat on his lap and asked him about his parents. The desire to be close to him, because he feels safe, is overwhelming.

Even if he isn't.

"Do you mean, does Landon know that I might tell you?"

Eric's nod is expected, but his face tells me he'd like this fight. He'd like to put Landon in his place, and here I am, slowly warming to the idea that maybe Eric's fists would set Landon straight.

"I think he might be suspicious that I could get him in trouble," I answer softly, and I reach to him without thinking. I reach for the collar of his jacket, then his throat. My fingers press where someone else's have, and I'm torn between a burst of rare, out of nowhere, jealousy that someone has been this close to him, and curiosity over how he got the blocks there. "How did someone do this…tattoo?"

"Carefully," Eric's other hand is on my back, and he coaxes me closer. "It took a long time. Longer than it should have."

I stare at the blocks, perfectly straight and evenly lined up, and when I look up, he smiles.

It's a weird one; mostly relieved with a hint of approval.

Of what, I have no idea.

"I like that I could see you on the phone. I wanted to see where you live and…" I forget about Landon for a moment, and I sink into the feeling of Eric before me. Seeing him on the phone was neat, but having him in person is even better.

He smiles again, and I can tell it's a flash of his real smile. It's missing the arrogant smugness he normally radiates and is more genuine.

Honest.

Pleased.

"You want to see where I live, Amity? You're done talking about Landon and how you might wind up dead?"

"Yes." I smile brightly, shrugging Evelyn and Landon right out of my thoughts.

Since I failed spectacularly at proving I was brave, and my plan to show him the picture of Landon is a complete bust, I figure I have nothing to lose. I rise up on my toes so I have a better vantage point, and he bows his head down. There's nothing submissive about the act, only pure and utter want.

"I have lots of things I could show you." Eric's nose touches mine, and then a second later, his lips touch mine, too. "You might like it there."

He presses his lips firmer, liking the idea that I would go with him. It wasn't the first time it had come up, though Rylan had mentioned it jokingly, and even Jason thought it would be a viable solution. In some ways, it would solve my problems. Maybe I could help him find Evelyn and her army, and in return, I could see what Dauntless was like.

"It's cold. Dark. Dangerous, if you want it to be."

He murmurs the words against my lips, then pulls me back as he sits down on the edge of my bed. He looks even larger on the pink comforter, and he pulls me closer to stand between his legs. My only hesitation is that I wish I could take his photo so I would have this image forever. His uniform is thick and heavy, and it seems strange to see it against the overly soft bedding.

"Come here." Eric waits patiently, even though I'm only inches away, and once I'm close enough, he takes my face in his hands. His palms are warm as they slide over my cheekbones, and they slip into my hair. My knees hit the bed, and I'm sitting on his knee before I realize what's happening. "It's quiet, there. Sometimes. There's no chickens, though. Or chicken murderers."

"Is it really underground? Do you have to jump to get inside?"

"That's one way," he nods against me, his head touching mine, and I waste no more time talking. I kiss him slowly, my own hands on the sides of his face, sliding back to touch his hair. He tenses at the feeling, but relaxes after a second, and moves one of his hands to my back. He takes my lower lip between his, and my eyes close as I sink against him.

This is all new to me.

Every single sensation.

The feeling of him against my skin, his uniform against the flimsy fabric of my nightgown and my bare feet hitting his shins. The way he moves, his chest rising and falling when my fingers work to take his jacket off, and the feeling of the buttons is familiar. The groan in his throat which mirrors my own, low and rich, as he tosses the jacket onto the bed, and pulls me flush against his chest.

He's large, so much larger without the confines of his truck, and I silently pray this isn't just because he wants information. It can't be. He can't be willing to come to Amity to make sure I am alive, all because I was the only one who'd seen Evelyn's face. There had to be something more, and I know I'm right, because he breaks away to kiss my cheek roughly, and for a second, he stays there.

It was funny that someone who was so confident and haughty seemed taken aback by this. It was like he preferred the feeling of us together, over anything else, when he could probably have any girl he wanted.

He clearly liked kissing me, but I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he really did care about me in a different way.

"Do you have to leave soon?" I ask, and my head stays against his.

"At some point. Where is everyone else? Your parents? Is everyone gone?"

"My parents are at my brother's house," I answer quietly, not wanting him to leave. I felt like he was oddly easy to startle, always on the defense. One wrong word could jerk him back to reality before I could blink. One move too quick would remind him what he was doing, and I didn't want to go back to wondering where Rylan is or if my parents would show up. I liked this, the warmness of him and I, and no one else. "I don't know when they'll be back. They went for dinner but Wesley came back and told me they were staying to help Forrest with something."

Eric doesn't answer right away. He takes my jaw in his hand, but only to tilt my head at him. I smile when his eyes find mine, because his are alive. They are clear and bright, burning with every emotion possible.

"Is this what you wear to bed?"

He drops a hand down to the nightgown, and he touches the fabric hesitantly. It's probably more juvenile than what anyone in Dauntless wore, but I liked it. My mother had made it, though I was fairly certain it matched one Holly and Paisley had. This one was more fitted than theirs, and for some odd reason, it was made for someone taller.

Which was ironic since none of us were very tall, except for my father and brothers. Though Paisley and Holly stood a better chance than I did.

"Sometimes," I try to sound cooler, like maybe I had better pajamas, or some that didn't have ruffles on them. But I was lying through my teeth since the only other options I had were a loose-fitting tank top, or one of my father's old shirts that was too stretched and worn for him to wear anymore. "I have other clothes."

Eric smiles, and my coolness factor is gone completely. "I've seen your other clothes, Amity. They're all very… pink."

He leans in closer, and he smells unfairly good. I long for the day when I can find out how he smells so good. Was it his soap? Was it a fancy cologne? Forrest one time bought a cologne at the market, only for it to induce a round of uncontrollable sneezing every time he drenched himself in it.

Or was this just Eric, handsome and clean and most definitely not spending his days outside in the fields.

"Oh yeah, I bet you think you've seen them all. But I have some that are even more pink. Dark pink, darker pink. Blackish pink, too."

He snickers.

He laughs against my cheek, and I lean into him, liking the way it sounds.

"You're funny, Amity. Blackish pink."

He moves his arms so they're around me, and his kiss is quick, but surprisingly soft given who he is. "I really should find Rylan. There's a high chance he'll ask to move in if he stays here too long."

"He fits in," I smile at the thought because Rylan could really have some fun here. "Although, I don't think he wants to after Carole went after him. Did you really send him here to follow up on the chicken murder?"

"Yes. Johanna insisted," Eric mutters dryly, but he lifts his head away from me, because Rylan bursts through the door with all the grace of Zander.

"The fuck are you two doing! Why is your jacket off and your pants still on? Why is she on your lap? Do you even know what time it is?" He stands with his hands on his hips, a mirror image of Wesley from earlier, and I notice he's wearing what appears to be Forrest's old clothes. His hair is wet, but combed out, and there's no more blood. "I used your brush, Everly. I'll buy you a new one, don't worry. I got all the blood out of it, too. And I like your shampoo. I might have to order some."

"Where did you shower?" I don't move from Eric, and Eric makes no move to push me off him. He could easily knock me off his lap but he stays there, sighing heavily into my hair. "Um, I should get down."

"Yeah, yeah you should. Are you taking her back or what? Is that why you showed up here, dramatic as fuck?"

"I came with the patrol squads. They're here looking for the factionless. I was talking to Everly when her phone died." Eric informs him, his tone rude and annoyed. "I wasn't expecting to hear you showed up covered in blood."

"Yeah, well I wasn't expecting Carole to be my next arch nemesis. I was even considering subscribing to her newsletter. Fat chance now. Anyway, yes, I showered here. One of the million children who live in this house came in thinking I was you, shrieked, then offered to find me some clothes. I must say, you have a very welcoming family."

"A little too welcoming," Eric mutters, and I reluctantly slide off his lap. He reaches for his jacket and pulls it back on as Rylan pulls out his phone. "I swear, if you take a picture, I'll murder you and leave you by the train tracks."

"Fun, but before you get all crazy, Harrison called. Then he texted me. His message says, allow me to read this to both of you _–Hey fuckers, I'm sending a text, which is making me angry because I hate typing all this out. Do you know how hard it is to touch each letter, one at a time? None of you are answering your phones so you better all be dead._ " Rylan pauses, and he smiles. "I love when he gets sentimental."

Eric rolls his eyes. Rylan watches Eric button his jacket back up, and he waits until Eric gestures for him to go on. "You dumbfucks bungled the chicken case. HEY! What the hell? I did not! But your factionless guys just got pulled in by Jason. He's getting a raise and you aren't since he appears to be the only one working. Tori is mad but she's always mad. Tell Eric he better not be at Everly's house and make sure he knows he'll have to pay for the fence he ran over. He can't claim the fence as being in his jurisdiction so don't even try."

Rylan pauses, and his gaze whips to Eric.

"Really? Did you really run over the fence? Why? And you dare mock my driving?"

"I may have clipped it," Eric answers slickly, and he stands up. "Call him and tell him to meet us at the docking bay. If Jason has anyone, he'll take them there."

"You think he's left already?" Rylan blinks, and this is the first time I've seen him look worried. "Damn it. I hate when I'm not there when the perps are brought in. We should go. Say goodbye to Everly or tell her to pack a suitcase because I don't want to miss this."

"She's not going anywhere and you know it," Eric shakes his head, and he looks mildly disappointed. It's fleeting; his shoulders hunch for just a moment, then he straightens himself up. "I'll walk out with you. In case you get attacked by any more chickens."

"It was a duck then a chicken pen railing, but thank you," Rylan retorts, and he waits patiently until Eric moves to follow him.

Eric glances back at me, and I head toward the door.

We are both quiet as we follow Rylan, now an expert of the Carlen household layout, to the stairs. He takes them two at a time, hopping with practiced ease, then jumps the final four at the bottom. Eric and I walk normally, descending at the same time, and every so often, his hand brushes mine.

"You'll call if anything else happens? Even if it involves…whoever?" Eric asks, and he waits for me to agree.

"Promise. Will you call me again so I can see where you live? All of it?" I stop on the very last step, and Eric is one ahead of me. He turns as he considers this, then shrugs.

"What's in it for me?" He counters easily, and his lips turn up. "First you throw yourself right at me, then you fall into me, you try to poison me with your salad, tempt me with your chicken murder mystery, and now you want to know where I live. Maybe I should be afraid of you."

In the kitchen, Rylan scares the living daylights out of Wesley. They both yelp, Wesley screams louder, then a second later, we hear Rylan graciously accepting the toast he's made him. Eric and I stand facing each other, and he waits for me to answer.

I can't do anything except smile.

Landon had tried to flirt with me a few times.

I wasn't immune to his low brow tactics. They usually came in the form of an insult, or some joke at my expense that made him look hilarious. He'd tried the same things Eric did without the effortlessness; Landon had tried to hold my hand, tried to kiss me, and tried to make me laugh. He'd accomplished zero of these things, except for one kiss that I completely rejected, while Eric had done them all without even trying.

It was completely different.

I wanted him to look at me the same way he was looking at me now, and I was hoping he'd call me so I could see where he lived. I wanted to know everything. Who he was, why there was a blue stripe on his black jacket, and what his life was like when he wasn't here for work.

Most importantly, I wanted him to keep kissing me, just like now, the quick press of his mouth to mine, one final time as an act of reassurance that this wasn't over, until I didn't have to be apart from him.

I hadn't figured out how this could possibly happen, but I would.

Sooner rather than later.

"Goodnight Everly. Stay away from Baskins over there."

The arrest of the factionless man is big news.

Two days later, I sit on the ground beside Sophia and Courtney, both sort of talking to me now, once I whispered I'd talked to Eric, and crammed into the crowd along with everyone else in the faction. We don't have to sit with our initiation class, and we don't have to sit with our families. There are too many people in here, and I patiently wait while a few try to find somewhere to settle. May walks in with a single duck in her arms, the smallest one of the bunch, and she sits down by Jerry. He's sitting nowhere near Carole, and she's busy chatting away to Mable, glancing his way with a nervous, forced grin.

The whole room is alive with chatter as everyone discusses the arrest.

It was all anyone could talk about. There were a few lucky witnesses, and despite being a faction that didn't thrive on gossip, today, it did.

According to the kind soul who witnessed the event, Jason had taken one of the factionless down and it was quite the sight. The man, a younger guy who had recently failed his initiation in Candor and was made factionless no more than a week ago, had the audacity to taunt him. Once Jason threatened to shoot him, the guy threw a rock at his head and took off.

Jason didn't like this.

He sprinted after him, weapon drawn according to the guy who swore he saw everything, and Jason was faster. My assumption was this was due to his training in Dauntless, or maybe he was just good at running.

Either way, he cornered the guy by our barn, they fought for a few minutes near the donkey pen, and Jason did his best not to shoot. He wanted him alive, and once the man slipped in chicken feed, it was all over. He hit his head, Jason got to him before he could come to, and the rest of the Dauntless soldiers descended upon him like a swarm of bees. They pulled him to his feet, arrested him on the spot for aggravated assault of a Dauntless officer, and a few other charges that sounded like Jason had made them up, and told him he'd better talk or else.

Johanna was alerted, and to the surprise of no one, she tried to stop Jason.

That didn't go over very well.

Eric was the first to announce he'd arrest her, followed by Not Jason. He also said he'd arrest her, though I'm sure she wondered why he had on different clothes. By the time Jason had the guy in the truck, Johanna agreed, but under protest. Dauntless didn't care. They were sure this man had all their answers, but the guy in front of me disagrees.

"It was brutal. The red haired guy is fast! Leapt over the firewood like it was an obstacle course and took the kid down like it was nothing. Too bad they aren't going to learn anything from him. He's one of the ones who came for the free dinner the other day. He doesn't know anything. He's still hurt over failing his test in Candor."

I listen to him talk over Sophia and Courtney, because both are ranting about how Mable was making them plan out a week of activities as part of their initiation project. While the task was easy, neither wanted to sit down and do it when the Fall Festival was coming up.

I hadn't been assigned anything yet.

This made me a little nervous, like maybe I was failing and hadn't noticed. But I also had been paying little attention to the initiation class, and for good reason.

"Is Johanna coming or what?" Someone mutters, oddly on edge, and oddly impatient.

Everyone glances around to see who's in a hurry, but Johanna arrives right then. She looks flustered and rushed. She steps through the crowd carefully, murmuring a hello and greeting anyone she passes.

With her are several people. Some of the head farmers, the men and women who oversaw the sorting of produce and assigned delivery routes, my father and the team who worked with him routinely, and the only man in our faction who knew how to work our generators. He stands to the side, his shirt slightly bluer and darker than everyone else's, and I remember my father saying the guy had come from Erudite.

He was the sole reason we had things like electricity and power.

They all look bothered, but they downplay it well.

"My apologies. I was held up by a few…people needing answers I don't have." Johanna stops at the front of the room, and her expression is grim. It's a weird look for her. She's normally hard to rattle, and very hard to upset.

But today she looks stressed; she waits until everyone quiets down, and when they do, she folds her arms around herself and looks defeated.

"By now, you've all noticed the increasing Dauntless presence in our faction. Despite my best efforts, I am unable to refuse them access to certain parts of the faction. They have expressed great interest in the woods and have more or less informed me they'll be working their way through them. As well as a few of the common areas of Amity."

"Why are they here?"

This is a wise question, and one with multiple answers.

Unbeknownst to everyone else, Johanna picks the safest one.

"A few days ago, they arrested someone in our faction. They have made it crystal clear they are here looking for factionless. They believe they are a threat to our faction and to others, and their mission is to keep them out of our way. They also believe some have information related to crimes being committed, and as we all know, the factionless are the best scapegoats."

She pauses, and I swear her stare stays on me for longer than it should.

"My advice to you all, is to stay clear of the soldiers. If they stop you, tell them what they ask and nothing more. If you are one of those helping feed the factionless, or have employed them to work in the fields or at your own home, I don't advocate lying in general, but refer to them by their names, as though they are our own members. The less reason Dauntless has to investigate, the better."

"Are they planning something?" Sophia asks, her voice loud and clear. She looks right at Johanna, and beside her, Courtney looks horrified. "I think if they are, we should know. So we're all on the same page."

"This is an excellent concern, and I can reassure you, the only thing the factionless are planning is their own survival."

"That's not what I meant. Are they planning to take over? Do they want to come live here? I know a few have stayed for a while."

Sophia's questions are daringly brave, even braver than I would have asked. I had decided it was better if I kept quiet, because I knew what the factionless were planning, but announcing that here would bring the attention to me, along with causing a total uproar. I had already left my name in Evelyn's head, and I didn't need it anyone else's.

"They are not."

Johanna presses her lips together like she's trying to contain her own words.

"For those who are worried, the Fall Festival will continue as planned. If you are apprehensive or concerned, please come see me. The Treat Trail will stay open, and we have had a few members of Amity graciously volunteer to act as sort of…security for it. We will keep our faction safe, I promise you this."

"Will Dauntless be here for the festival?" This time I do speak up, because I wonder if there is a chance they'd decide our festival is the perfect night to come by. "Is that why we need security? From them?"

"I don't know. They are showing up whenever they believe they have reason to. I'm not always alerted of this. They are able to manipulate the areas they're searching to fit under their jurisdiction. But the festival will continue as planned, and if you'd like to attend, it'll be completely safe. Are there any other concerns?"

She takes a step back, and I know she's hoping no one else asks her anything.

"My apologies for making you wait. You can stay here or head home if you'd like. If you were interested in attending the council meetings with all the factions, please submit your name. There's a faction wide Leader's meeting coming up, and we need at least three representatives to attend."

"Are you going to put your name in?" Courtney elbows me, and it's the first time she's spoken to me in days. "I think you should. I heard this one is the fancy one. I bet Eric will be there."

"I thought you weren't talking to me," I whisper back, and she immediately looks guilty. "I understand why. I told Eric what I know."

"I'm sorry. I know that's not very nice. I just don't want you to get hurt. I was thinking about it, and I think Eric is safe but not safe. I heard he works for Jeanine sometimes and he works on the serums. He helps her decide which ones to approve or not approve, and how they use them. Do you ever think that maybe…maybe he wants you because he wants to test something on you? He's really smart, Everly." Courtney's eyes are wide with worry, and then she looks away. "Landon could hurt you, but at least you'd be here. If Eric hurts you, there's no way to stop him."

Her words slice right into my skin. They aren't entirely all that farfetched. Eric had admitted he could kill me and no one would know, but it didn't seem like he wanted to. He had shown up to make sure I was alright, and that felt oddly risky considering coming here would be noticed by the others.

"Okay, but Landon isn't even here. At a mandatory meeting to talk about safety and the soldiers showing up, he's nowhere to be found. Did you notice that?" I point this out, and Courtney nods miserably.

"Just…don't trust everything Eric does, okay. That's all. My brother saw them arrest that factionless guy and he said they're not nice. Just…be careful."

Courtney glances back over her shoulder, then stands up abruptly. She stumbles over her dress as she rushes past me, and she looks terrified when Johanna thanks everyone for coming. Courtney makes it all the way to the back before anyone can stop her, but no one is paying attention. They're all busy talking about the festival, and what they're working on for it.

"Ignore her. She's a scaredy cat. Her brother is a total conspiracy theorist. He thinks everyone here is getting microchipped and the peace serum they want us to take is so we won't fight it." Sophia smooths her dress out over her knees, and shrugs. "Besides, the only thing Eric is testing on you, is how many times he can show up to Amity without someone figuring out what he's doing."

She points to the doors Courtney had sprinted to, and there he is.

Leaning against the doorway with an unimpressed sneer, watching as the Amity faction slowly makes their way toward him.

This time, he ignores me.

He's dressed in a different uniform, this one so black it practically bleeds together. The stripe on his arm is a vibrant blue, newer and sharper, and it matches his stiff posture. I look over at him while I walk out with Sophia, and I wait for him to pull me aside or at least say my name.

He doesn't.

He's standing with the guy named Jeremy. I remember Jeremy had been here once before to talk to Johanna, but I also remember Landon had mentioned that very same name. I wondered if it was a coincidence, or if Jeremy was trying to infiltrate the factionless.

Either way, this isn't good. The two of them are discussing something, and they only stop when we near them. Eric's gaze flicks over me lazily, with the barest hint of any interest. It's very unlike the way his eyes would lock on mine, or how he'd left me standing on the stairs of my parent's home, promising he'd show me the rest of his apartment.

He hadn't.

I hadn't heard from him since that night, but it's clear his priorities have shifted.

He moves away from the doorway to leave, and he only bumps into me when the swarm of Amity pushes me against him. I lose my balance over his boots, and he catches me, just as tightly as the very first time I'd walked into him.

"Watch yourself, Amity."

This time, the words sting.

He hisses them, then bends down to hiss a few more at me.

I close my eyes as he steadies me, and very lowly tells me he's here to talk to my father.

"Where is Dad?"

Dinner is like an out of body experience.

I sit between Paisley and Holly, doing my best to eat the dinner my mother has made. It's good; she clearly had spent all afternoon on it, having not been at the meeting with the rest of us, and I half wonder if she was expecting company. I try to swallow down the steak and potatoes, but I'm the only one struggling. Holly and Paisley are engrossed in some conversation behind me, Leif and Wesley are on their second piece of steak, and even Zander is quietly eating. He's busy stabbing his potatoes with a red fork, and he balances on his knees, focusing extra hard on not getting his dinner everywhere.

My mother eats her dinner slowly, and her eyes move from her plate, to the front door.

"I'm not sure, Wesley. He said he was working late with Johanna. I'm sure he'll be home to say goodnight."

Her words are a cheerful lie. She smiles, but it's about as honest as Eric pretending we'd never met before.

It hurts the same way, too.

"Is he really working?" I ask before I can stop myself, and the fragile façade she's been holding up starts to splinter. She looks at me in horror, more so that I'm asking, rather than what I'm asking. "Are you sure he isn't…stuck somewhere else?"

"What are you implying, Everly?" This time, she blinks, and her lips turn down. "He said he was working earlier. I have no reason to think otherwise."

"Okay," I shrug, and I force myself to look at my plate. The food swirls before me, blurring together into an unrecognizable mess, and I set my fork down. "I'm not feeling very well. May I be excused?"

"Are you alright?" my mother eyes me suspiciously, but she nods when I tell her I just have a headache. "I'll save your plate in case you want it later."

"Thank you." I leave before anyone can ask what's really wrong. I'm too afraid that I'll announce I know where our father is, and he's not with Johanna. My guess is by now, he's in Dauntless, probably being interrogated until he confesses what Eric wants to hear.

I think of this the whole walk up the stairs. I slow down when I near the top, because my heart is racing with fear. The weight of this being my fault is unbearably heavy. If my father doesn't return, it'll be my doing. I'll be the one who told Eric what was going on, what brought him here, and now, I'm the one who alerted him to my father's involvement.

My fingers shake as I shut my bedroom door, and I lock it. I head for the dresser, and for a second, I hesitate to open the drawer, because I know I've shoved the phone in there.

My only option is to call Eric.

Maybe I can plead my case or beg him to let my father go.

I pull the phone out slowly, and I'm met with a black screen. The mental debate rages on, wondering if he'll even answer. Perhaps Courtney had been right to tell me not to trust him. Her approval had changed once she heard about what he did in Erudite, but I understood. I was standing here, questioning everything that had happened in the past few weeks. My time with him had been unique, but it wasn't ideal. I was more than flirting with danger, and the longer it went on, and harder it would be to stop.

Ultimately, I'm left with no answers, and there's only one way to make sure my father is alive.

Before I can press the screen to call Eric, there's a knock on the door. It takes everything in me not to scream, because it's probably Zander, wanting to show me an oddly shaped french fry or something he'd brought in from outside.

"One second!" I put the phone back in the drawer, slamming it shut, and I open the door with zero enthusiasm.

"What do you want Zander?" I sound so miserable, the feeling echoing in every single cell in my body, I barely notice that the person outside my door isn't Zander.

It's my father.

"Okay, you want to add the eggs? Or the sugar?"

The morning sun is bright.

It streams in through the large windows with surprising force. It streaks over its kingdom, drenching the large butcher board island to splay over the ingredients neatly laid out.

My father is alive and well.

The night Eric told me he was here to talk to him, my dad returned with not a single sign that someone had interrogated him. Other than a slight weariness to his face and the few times he rubbed his eyes, he was totally fine. He was tired, but that wasn't unusual.

His days were always long, and it was completely understandable for him to look worn out. He was accessible to everyone here; he never turned away questions from farmers, from neighbors, not even from the factionless, asking how to plant a garden in rocky, dry soil. He took pride in his job, pride in the work he accomplished, and pride in what he provided for us.

I was never entirely sure he was completely proud of me, but that night, it was clear he was worried.

"Your mother said you didn't feel good. Are you alright?"

His concern that night was rare. His attention wasn't, and his affection wasn't, either, if you weren't Forrest or me. Zander had a way of taking over the room, and despite not looking like our father, he claimed him the same way he claimed Willow. Without any question or assumption, or regard for anyone else.

I'd long felt a slight difference between how he interacted with us. He adored Paisley and Holly, and their hair matched his. He was all smiles around Wesley and Leif, and his discipline of them was nothing more than stern words or a frown tossed their way in the gentlest manner. When it came to Forrest and me, I often felt like we were the odd ones out, or the ones who he felt most disappointed by.

I'd always dismissed it because we were older. The gap between Paisley and me wasn't anything scandalous, but it was enough that I sometimes felt slighted.

Life in Amity was effortless for them.

They were both light and easy. Their blonde hair sparkled in the sun, was often woven in complicated braids or left to hang loose in total perfection. Their dresses fit properly; never too long or too short, never sliding off their shoulders unless they'd lifted something from my wardrobe. Even Wesley and Leif handled most situations with the same mellow disinterest, unless it involved blood or a dead animal. They liked being outside, thrived in the depths of the woods, and preferred to have their hands dirty in whatever they could.

None of this was me.

Some of it was Forrest. He liked living here, and it was obvious no one would ever think otherwise. He liked the outdoors, the sprawling and endless woods, the bonfire and sing-a-longs, and the yelling children and camaraderie that came from a hard day on the farm. He soaked up every second he could in the sun, hadn't cut his hair in years, and had married a girl who would provide him with the Amity life people strived for and saved her from a life of being factionless.

I like some of that, but I dislike most of it.

The only one in the family I really identified with was Zander, and that was because we both felt like there was more to life than being stuck literally counting sheep.

His attitude could be passed off because he was little, but mine couldn't.

Not for much longer.

Pretty soon, everyone, including Johanna, would sense this wasn't working for me. I might have gotten Amity on my aptitude test, but it wasn't right.

I just didn't know how long I could hide it.

Or if I wanted to.

"I'll add the eggs," I reach for the row of them, and I crack the first one on the large glass bowl. "Will you hand me a spatula so I can mix it up?"

"Sure." He pauses to rummage through a kitchen drawer, and he comes up triumphant. "Here you go. I meant to tell you, you look much better today."

"Better than what?" I look up at my father, and the shaky ground of this baking date wobbles beneath me.

It had been his idea.

A few days ago, he'd returned from talking with Eric. He didn't say a word to any of us about what had gone on. He let everyone think he was working, but I knew better. I kept this secret, because my guess was at some point during their talk, my name would have come up.

It must have. He'd come home and straight to me. This was suspicious for every reason in the world, but I pretended it wasn't. Once my father was sure I wasn't on my deathbed, he suggested the two of us bake cookies and catch up. I hated that it felt like a trap, but I was desperate to connect with him. I was hoping I could maybe bring up the factionless and dissuade him from going back. He was kind and good and honest, and if he'd been able to shake Eric's suspicion of him, it wasn't for the better.

He'd return to help Landon without question.

"The other night. You were sort of pale. You didn't eat your dinner at all." He adds flour and sugar together, and he waits patiently for me to hand him the salt. "I know things have been…. very rough here. Forrest moving out made it obvious that you and I sort of drifted apart. It doesn't help that work has been nuts. You have your own initiation going on, and…Landon sort of mentioned maybe we should have had you stay with the initiation class rather than at home."

I mix the eggs and milk together, watching them blend into each other, and I don't know how to answer him. The space between us isn't just because Forrest is no longer here, but because of whatever he thought of me. It was because of whatever reasoning he had for disliking everything I did, or expecting something more, or expressing how he'd prefer I acted a certain way. It wasn't because I had stayed here, though I suppose if I had moved things might have been better.

"I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly…" I stop, and I reach for the bowl he's been stirring. "Did the men from Dauntless question you? That night you said you were working?"

He can't hide his surprise. He tries. It's another careful arrangement so he looks like he's more concerned over how many chocolate chips are all over the counter, but I know better.

"I know you were helping Landon. I went to the meeting with him. He wanted me to join him and-"

"I did help Landon. A while back, Landon came to me and explained he'd stumbled across a few factionless camps that were inching closer to Amity. They were struggling and didn't want to ask for help. Landon was sick at the thought that he couldn't help, so I agreed to teach them a few things that could be beneficial. Amity can't take them all in, but there are ways to grow a sustainable garden that I can show them."

"In the winter?" I stare up at him, and he frowns. "But there were hundreds of them. You can't possibly feed all of them Or teach them all.."

"We had the kitchens donate some things that were close to being tossed. Landon worked to create a menu and I went along to help serve it. I don't know why you're upset over this. It would be no different than inviting them to join us in the Dome." He watches me mix everything together, and I gesture for him to add the chocolate chips. "Landon said you don't want anything to do with him. I…understand your desire to find someone else. I told your mother it's your decision. Landon is understandably devastated, but I don't want you to be unhappy."

"Did you believe me when I told you he attacked me?" I fold everything together, and I wait for him to say no. "He's been working to turn everyone against me. Even you."

"I…"

I look up at him, and he looks visibly distraught.

"I've known Landon almost as long as I've known you. It was hard for me to think he'd ever lay a hand on you. I did talk to him and he…admitted things went a little too far. He's got good intentions, but that doesn't excuse him grabbing you."

"But you still helped him." I point out, and I stop mixing the cookie dough. "You said I was the one acting out. I haven't been acting out."

"Mable mentioned to me that you might want to consider studying a different area. You guys switch soon anyway, but maybe you'd prefer working inside or away from the little kids. She said you were trying hard but not really enjoying it the way everyone expected." My father takes the spatula from beside the bowl, and carefully stirs the ingredients together. "I told her you'd probably had your fill of little kids here. I know Zander often winds up with you. I heard he was there the other day…that your Mom forgot she'd left him here."

"Um," I don't know how to answer him, because confirming our mother completely forgot I had initiation and left Zander at home with me didn't feel right. "It was fine. Zander liked playing with the class. I was just, tired by the time I got home. I had him all day."

"He's a handful, I know." He pauses, and gestures for me to hand him the baking sheet. "You want to scoop some of these out? We'll add some sea salt then pop them in the oven."

"Sure." I move around him to grab a spoon, and I stop with the drawer open. "Are you going to go back and help Landon? If I ask you not to, will you stay home? We could make dinner, just you and me. You could show me how to make that pasta Zander likes."

"I made a commitment to help for a few more weeks. Once the snow starts, they won't be able to get much growing. I wish you could have seen the look on their faces when they had a warm meal to eat."

I did see them.

I saw all of them, swarming and swirling around, buzzing like Evelyn's bees.

They'd be goaded into attacking at some point, though I bet Landon hadn't mentioned that part.

"Please? Just don't go back. Just you and I can cook dinner and.."

"Everly, what is going on that you're so worked up? What is wrong?" He turns to face me, and I shut the kitchen drawer. It closes loudly, harder than I mean to. "Everly!"

"Did you talk to Eric?" I try to turn the conversation around, and strangely, it works. The mention of a Dauntless soldier makes him sigh, but it's safer than talking about the factionless.

"I talked with him and Jeremy. Both asked if the factionless were coming into our faction, and how we handled them. They nosed around the greenhouses for a while. They asked how things work, and my guess is wanted to see if they could find anything suspicious. Eric did ask, or demand really, that we refrain from encouraging the factionless to come into the faction, and hinted if they found any large gatherings, we could potentially be considered at fault for them. It's Dauntless bullshit. We can help however we can, but if they think it's getting out of control, then it's all on us."

He carefully makes a row of cookies, then sprinkles the sea salt with a fair amount of enthusiasm.

"On a happier note, these were your favorite cookies when you were little. We used to make them all the time. You'd spend hours baking with me until…" my father stops, and his expression changes significantly. For a fleeting second, he was looking at me the way he looked at Paisley or Holly when they came home announcing they'd gotten some award for bird watching or fish feeding. "Actually, I don't know why we stopped."

"Because the others needed your attention more, I guess."

My answer is low for me.

I watch him struggle not to nod, because he knows it's true.

I can remember baking with him.

I can remember hours spent sitting on the counter while he showed me how to make all kinds of things. Muffins. Sugar cookies. Frosting. Brownies. Pies. A dessert he would dramatically light on fire. Ice cream. Ice cream cake.

It all came to a stop sometime after Wesley was born. Five kids in the house was a lot, even for a family in Amity. His attention was stretched thin, threatening to snap by the time Leif was born, and our days of baking felt more like he'd worked hard to win me over, then stopped when he didn't have to try anymore.

"I'm sorry, Everly."

He leaves the sheet of cookies, all perfectly lined up and evenly spaced, and he hugs me. He hugs me tightly, desperate to fix this –these years of unfair moments where I felt slighted and he willingly let it go on because he had no other choice – and I understand.

I forgive him.

I don't have to; I could cling to the feeling of being left out and pushed aside and continue forcing the issue. Or I could accept that he'd done his best to raise a family of good, happy kids, and not hold it against him that it wasn't always as smooth as one would hope.

I hug him back, resting my head on his chest and closing my eyes, and I hold onto him for so long that my eyes burn, and eventually, the oven beeps over and over.

On Friday, I put my name in what Sophia calls the bowl of shame.

I write it as neatly as I can to ensure someone can read it, and I fold it twice, then twice more.

My chances of getting picked to go to the next meeting were slim, but it had been a solid week since I'd seen Eric. The phone he'd given me had died. It had stayed charged for days, but after hours spent swiping through the photos to memorize every single thing about each one, it eventually drained the battery.

The screen stayed black. With no way of knowing how to charge it, I couldn't get a hold of Eric. The moment of realization was rotten and unfair, but sort of telling.

Our connection was temporary, literally.

Which led me to this moment: dropping my name in for the lottery of who wanted to attend the meeting in the hopes of getting picked.

Things turn around slightly.

Very slightly.

By the time the Fall Festival arrives, I have come to terms with many things.

Number one was my father. The more I studied him, the more time I was around him, the less I felt convinced of any real connection between us. He was everything I'd thought before –kind, gracious, generous, and willing to make an effort to keep the peace between us –but also like a complete stranger. He was taller and broader than Forrest and me, and his hair was a sandy brown that was often a mess. He had patience while I had none, an easy-going persona, and a gift for working with plants.

He'd brought me one a few days ago.

He towered over me, and he smiled when he carefully placed it in my hands. It was pretty; leafy and green and blossoming with pink flowers, and he instructed me to keep it in the window so it would have proper sunlight. He told me how to keep it alive, when to water it and not to forget to say good morning and good night to it, but after a day or so, it was clear I hadn't inherited his ability to raise anything. The flowers wilted, much like my soul when Zander decided I was the only one who could take him to the Fall Festival, and my father whisked the plant downstairs for emergency treatment.

The second epiphany was that nothing could ever really happen between Eric and me. This one sucked so bad it almost knocked the wind out of me, and I felt stupid for thinking something could happen in the first place. It was clear he'd been here only to find out about the factionless, and that was it. He hadn't returned since catching the tail end of our meeting. He hadn't called –well, he couldn't call because the phone was dead – but he hadn't shown back up to tell me how he'd missed me. I waited; every knock on the door and every time someone walked behind me, I hoped it was him. But it never was, and I felt stupid for thinking maybe he'd really liked me.

The idea of him was good, almost too good. It was a salacious and lusty idea that a man from Dauntless would be drawn to the very faction he despised. He probably had a good laugh as his fingers plucked soft fabric away from his heavy uniform, and he probably snickered into the night when I put my arms around his neck. The memory made my cheeks burn, both with embarrassment and some lingering, shameful enjoyment. I had liked the way his fingers moved on my skin, touching the lesser exposed parts of my leg and toying with the strap on my dress. I liked the way he touched my hair, twirling it around his fingers and smirking.

But mostly, I liked him –dangerous and deadly and downright impossibly good looking – coming to see me.

By now, it was painfully obvious he'd come to get what he wanted, and that was information.

Which I handed over, piece by piece.

I'd concluded that one of the girls in the photos was someone he was either dating or had been dating. When I went through them again, slowly clicking and expanding each one, there she was. In the background, sharing the same dark look I'd seen on his face. Her dress was tight. Fitted. She was curvier than I was, but startlingly thin in a way that hinted she was very controlled. Calculated. She seemed too put together to be screaming at him over the phone, but who knew what she was like in private. She probably wasn't clumsy or eager. I bet he liked her restraint. Her perfectly styled hair. The way she was built in a way most could never even dream of looking, yet she was real.

So, I decided she was someone he was interested in. She looked taller than me, and definitely older. She was at this party, just like him, and was obviously important enough to be there.

I wasn't as important as her, for I didn't even have a position here, and this realization led me to my next conclusion.

It was unlikely I'd see Jason or Not Jason again.

I liked them just as much as I liked Eric. Not the same way. Neither made my heart race except for Not Jason showing up covered in blood, and neither made any move to do anything other than get to know me for their friend's sake, but I liked them. They were funny and charismatic, charming even with their faction's reputation, and they had seemed good.

Or maybe I was trying to see the good in them no matter what, because I wanted to believe Eric could be good.

My fourth discovery was that they weren't coming back unless they were forced to, and I felt a strange sting at the loss of them. I'd thought of them as friends, even if they weren't, but I wished they were.

I think of all of them as I button up Zander's costume, and he's so happy he can barely stand still.

"You look good. You look just like…" I pause, and he smiles even wider. "…like…"

"Harrison! Say Harrison, Everly!" Zander yells, and I have to admit, he does.

Because she had free hours while my father was working, my mother had made Zander a tiny replica of the Dauntless uniform to wear on the treat trail. She'd done an excellent job of this, especially because Rylan had left his here. I found it crumpled in Leif's bathroom, and my mother had scrubbed the blood out of it. She carefully washed it, hung it up to dry, and waited for him to come back and get it.

He didn't.

We both ignored the uniform in the room, but it came in handy when she used it to make Zander's costume for the festival.

"I need a gun, Everly!" Zander tugs on my hand, and when I shake my head no, he makes a face at my dress. "Everly! Not a costume!"

"It's fine," I insist, and I'd already decided I wasn't wearing anything else. I'd purposely worn a dress that could resemble something out of a fairytale, and it was even pinker than one could imagine. Ultra pink. The fabric was light and twirly, but stiff enough to hold the shape. The sleeves were long, gathering at my forearms but slipping down further, and the skirt hit above my ankles. My mother had helped place the flowers in my hair, this time pinned in place and twined together, and I'd agreed it was pretty. I wasn't going to argue over anything tonight, because I'd agreed to take Zander to the treat trail, and my father had agreed to stay home tonight.

I'd heard a rumor there was a factionless meeting planned. I caught wind of it from one of Landon's friends, chatting away at the Dome, oblivious to me standing behind him. I stuck close by while I picked out my lunch, and I memorized the date over and over until I was sure I wouldn't forget it. I'd been waiting to see if my father would announce he had to work, but over dinner, he promised he was staying to pass out candy with my mom.

"It's like, a princess dress. Maybe like…Rapunzel. You could be Flynn Ryder."

"NO!" Zander makes a face like I've insulted him horrifically. "HARRISON!"

"Okay, cool. You can be Harrison and I'll be the princess trapped in the tower."

"How fitting."

I look up from fixing Zander's buttons to see Forrest watching, and he leans against the doorframe looking smug.

"You are trapped here. It's kind of like you're stuck in a tower. Though I don't think Eric could climb up your hair. He weighs too much. He'd have to climb the wall or something."

"Hilarious. I haven't seen him in forever," I shake my head, adjusting Zander's collar. I smile when his outfit is perfect, and I reach for the pumpkin shaped basket he would carry to collect his candy. "And no one is climbing anything. They got what they wanted, which was information on the factionless. Did they ever come hunt down Willow?"

"No," Forrest grins, and he looks unfairly happy. "I actually came by to tell you she is pregnant. I figured you'd want to be the first to know."

I glare at him over my shoulder, and I roll my eyes. "Oh, so she wasn't pregnant a few weeks ago, and now she is. Shocking."

"Well, if you want me to explain how it works, I can. You see when a man and a woman-"

"You can stop any time now," I flash him a bright smile, and I stand up. "Congratulations. I'm sure you will be an amazingly annoying father."

"I'm planning on it," Forrest winks, and he holds his palm up to Zander. "High five, Harrison Jr."

"Have you ever met Harrison?" I ask curiously, because Zander's costume might raise a few eyebrows. While cute that my mother had made it, dressing up like the faction who hated us was a little strange. "When we saw him down by the lake, it seemed like he knew Zander. And Zander is obsessed with him."

"Uh yeah, did you put that mystery together yet? The dark hair? The green eyes? The fact that some random dude from Dauntless would give a shit about a small child here?" Forrest looks at me, and his stare is impatient. "Everly…"

"We'll talk later," I inform him, quietly, because my mother shows up to see Zander's costume. Her eyes light up in approval, and she looks delighted at how her work turned out.

"Oh, Zander! You look absolutely wonderful! Just like a real soldier."

"Like Harrison," he corrects her, and she beams at him.

She crouches down to fix his hair, pushing it to the side, and smoothing out a piece sticking up, and her eyes are bright. She nods her head, and for a second, touches the collar and moves it up the tiniest bit. She takes a moment to really look at him, and beside me, Forrest raises his eyebrows and nods his head when she answers.

"Just like Harrison."

"This way! Watch your step! Next group!"

The man waiting at the beginning of the walkway swings a flashlight toward the path. He gestures for Zander and me to head into the trail, having given the people in front of us ample time to collect their candy. He smiles at our outfits, more at Zander's than mine, and waves us through.

The Fall Festival is in full swing.

I normally love this of time year. Despite my lack of enthusiasm for all things Amity, I really like the Autumn season. The cold weather is slowly creeping in, but it isn't downright freezing yet. The festival is the one night where I can honestly agree it is fun to live here. People decorate their houses with scary animal decorations, streamers, or props they'd made. Members of the faction sit on their porches and watch as everyone strolls through, and if you want to, you can go to them for a treat. Some make homemade creations, candy, cookies or even cake, and some give out small toys.

There is a bonfire roaring in the middle of the faction, and you can have cider and roast marshmallows. The band is playing, though Zander and I both agreed to skip that, and there is dancing. A row of games, a corn maze, and a haunted hayride. Jerry is leading that one, and we'd promised him we'd come by. He would load up a dozen or so of whoever wanted to ride in the back of a truck, and for fifteen minutes, he'd drive through an area of the woods decorated just for tonight.

I'm sure all the other factions thought this was ridiculous. I couldn't imagine Dauntless doing anything of the sort, though I'm sure they'd like the opportunity to have a party. Candor seemed too uptight to dress up or pass out candy, and Abnegation would refuse at the very idea of such a wasteful night. Erudite would probably laugh or inform us they'd researched the idea of a fall festival, and tell us we were hosting it wrong.

For once, I'm glad I live here.

"Come on, Zander. You lead the way."

"Okay. Follow me!" He takes off happily, swinging the pumpkin back and forth. He stops every so often to examine the decorations: there's a scary looking cat sculpture, a frog with two heads, spiderwebs everywhere, and a giant spider that drops down out of the tree branches when you walk underneath it. "A shark!"

And a shark.

A bloodied, manic looking shark, painted so you had to walk through its mouth, much further up ahead.

"Cool. That's pretty scary." I follow him slowly, not at all hating this. Ahead of us are a group of small children led by Sophia's mother and they patiently wait to get candy from May. She's dressed up like a witch, and the tiny duck sits on a tiny chair beside her, with a tiny matching pointy hat. "Do you want to say hi to May?"

"Yes!" Zander shrieks, and he hops the rest of the short walk over to her once the group leaves. He very gently touches the duck, patting it carefully, and once he informs May he loves the duck, she gives him a whole handful of candy. "THANK YOU!"

"You look adorable. Like a real soldier!" May exclaims, and she smiles at me. "Everly, you look beautiful. You didn't tell me you brought a princess with you, did you Zander?"

"No, just Everly." Zander looks up at me, scrunching his face up. I'm sure he would have preferred if I had worn something else, but I wasn't making a costume just to walk through the woods. "Not a princess."

"Oh, well she's beautiful!" May isn't at all flustered. She hands me some candy and leans in closer when Zander jumps back onto the pathway. "How are you doing? I heard Landon's been bugging the living shit out of you. He's lost his marbles if you ask me. Tried to steal one of my ducks the other day. Can you imagine? Like I wouldn't notice one was missing."

Her words catch me completely off guard. I blink a few times, trying to figure out how to answer. "Um, yeah, it hasn't been very good with him. But I think he got the message to stay away from me. I wasn't very nice."

"Don't be. There's being nice and being stupid. A lot of people here confuse the two to keep the peace. If you need anything, you come to me. I'll take care of him. I don't take kindly to anyone who tries to hurt young women." May pats my arm, and gently nudges me after Zander. "Have fun tonight. If you stop and see LeRoy, he's giving out entire chocolate bars. He made them himself. He's dressed like a wizard."

"We definitely will," I feel a flash of gratitude for her, even her duck. It quacks when I step away from them, and I wave goodbye. I have to hurry to catch up to Zander, but it's worth it.

This section of the trail is lit up. The lights are woven into the trees, and a few candles are lit on the ground to show us where to go. The spiderwebs have been pulled aside to make a tunnel of sorts, and Zander sprints ahead, right into the mess of kids hunting for the spiders hidden along the pathway.

For one second, I hang back to look at the insanely detailed dragon someone has carved, until I hear a noise.

A good distance behind me, someone steps on a branch. The noise catches my attention not because we're in the woods, slowly following a trail that will lead us back to the bonfire, but because the pathway is clear. The farmers had worked all day to make sure it was as smooth and clean as a dirt pathway could be. They removed all the brush and branches to leave a wide area to walk through.

I turn around slowly, squinting into the dark, and I jump when someone grabs my arm.

"Everly! Hold my pumpkin! I'm getting a chocolate frog!" Zander shoves his pumpkin basket at me, and he turns to skip back to the group up ahead. I watch him, his dark uniform vanishing as he goes through the spider tunnel, and then he disappears completely into the crowd.

Shit.

He's too far ahead for me to know where he is.

I move to follow him, but I stop when there's another crack. My heart clenches up painfully, and a wave of nausea hits as blond hair becomes visible, stepping out from the side.

"Cute kid. I like his uniform."

Colton stands in front of me, but he keeps walking. He pushes the branches out of the way without looking, because his stare is fixed on me.

"Did you make him the costume? You must be pretty familiar with the Dauntless soldiers to make it so accurate. You're Everly, right?"

He's tall.

For more than a few reasons, he reminds me of Eric. He's strong and heavy looking, and his hair is combed the same way but the similarities end there. While Eric oozes power and authority, Colton oozes pure and utter malice. He eyes me up and down, flexing his fingers in and out, and I have the feeling he'd like to grab me.

"Everly? That's your name, isn't it? That's what Landon said you respond to."

I've never once been truly afraid like this.

My mind is telling me to take a step back, because up ahead is the group of kids and Sophia's mom.

LeRoy, dressed like a wizard.

Zander, dressed like Harrison.

But my mind goes blank; the bravery vanishes just like Eric had, and I stumble over the hem of my dress when I finally do step back.

"What do you want?"

"I heard you're close to Eric." Colton walks at me, unblinking. The pace makes me speed up, and I glance back quickly to see how far away I am from everyone else. It's a mistake, because it gives him the chance to catch up. "Landon doesn't like that."

"I'm pretty sure Landon can fight his own battles," I inform him, and I keep walking.

The path winds up ahead, bending around a curve once you get to the shark's mouth, and I can hear people talking.

"Come any closer and I'll scream," I warn him, and I frantically force myself not to panic. "Or I'll…"

"You'll what? Hit me with your pumpkin?" Colton laughs, menacing and loud. "Landon told me you're dumb, you know. He told me you're pretty, which I guess you are, but how you're an absolute idiot to throw away a life with him. I thought maybe you and I could talk. I won't hurt you so long as you tell me what I need to know."

"Which is what?"

I try to speed up, but I have no idea what's behind me. I reach back to fumble for something, but my fingers touch nothing but air.

"I want you to tell me when Dauntless is coming back. Or really, when Eric will be back. I don't give a shit about the others, but Eric is getting a little too close to Evelyn for my liking and I can't have him ruining what she's working on." Colton lunges for me, and the pumpkin hits the ground. "When are they coming back, Everly?"

I take off running, but he's too close. He grabs me, but unlike the way Landon grabbed me, this hurts immediately. His hands crush my arms to jerk me to him, and he's strong enough that I can't get away. Unlike the time with Landon, I don't let him hold on for very long. I immediately kick him as hard as I can, and when I kick his stomach, it's enough of a blow that he lets go. He recoils for only a moment, then rushes back at me.

"I can't help you." I ball my hand into a fist the way Eric showed me, and my punch connects with Colton's face. Because he's taller and much stronger, it doesn't work the way I'm hoping. It only serves to enrage him. He catches me by the arm and struggles to drag me off the path.

"Landon left out the part where you were a total bitch." He hisses this at me, grabbing a fist full of my hair, and my eyes close as a wave of painful horror washes over me.

"Let me go, you asshole!"

And then, he does.

His hand leaves my hair, but only because a blur of black comes between us. Colton is immediately knocked to the ground. He lands heavily; he groans as his shoulder smashes into the ground, and he stays there until there is a click. I wipe at my eyes, trying to stop my breath from coming in shaky gasps, and I realize I'm only alive because I got lucky.

Eric stands over him, a gun pointed to Colton's head, and he dares him to move.

"Jason, over here. Past the fucking shark."

Eric barks this into the darkness, and I stand there watching in pure, slow horror. Jason appears as if he's been waiting for this cue, and he's not alone. Jeremy follows along, though his stare is stuck when it finds me, and Not Jason shoves him out of the way to beat him there.

"Jeremy, go pick up the candy. Zander will be mad." Rylan commands Jeremy with the same authority, and he stops by Eric. "Fucker. I knew he was a pain in the ass. See if you ever comment on my hair again."

"Fuck you both," Colton rasps, and he sits up. He looks at me, and his smile is nasty enough that you'd think he didn't have a gun pointed at him. "We were just talking. I didn't do anything. She punched me."

"Save it. Harrison is just waiting for the chance to interrogate you." Eric announces, his tone heavy with monotony. "Do you always grab the hair of whoever you speak with? Is that how it works with the factionless?"

Colton moves. He starts to rise up, and Eric steps closer.

"Look, you're boring, but I'll still shoot. I've got nothing else going on tonight."

"Why are you here?" Colton asks, and I have to say, I also wonder this. "Slow night in Dauntless?"

"We came to see Zander. Why are you here?"

This time, the voice belongs to Harrison. I turn to see him standing right next to me, and his gaze is sympathetic. "Everly, are you alright? He ruined your flowers."

"I'm fine," I answer, but it's so shaky it sounds the exact opposite. "Where is Zander? He was up ahead. I l lost him in the group!"

"He's right here," Harrison gestures to the side, and Zander is right there, holding onto his free hand. Zander's eyes are wide, and he watches as his heroes gather around Colton, warning him not to try anything. Jeremy comes back to hand Zander his pumpkin, and he forces a smile.

It's not pleasant.

Harrison waves him away and barely acknowledges Jeremy's existence. "Go cuff the guy. Take him to the truck. I promised Zander we'd go through the rest of the trail. All the way to the warlock at the end."

"A warlock!" Zander grins, and he moves closer to Harrison. "Everly, you okay?"

"I'm…"

I'm not okay, but that's alright.

Now that Jeremy, Jason, and Not Jason are surrounding Colton, Eric leaves them.

He strides right over. His eyes find mine after they sweep over me, and before I can say his name, I'm pulled against his chest and his arms lock me in place.

I'm not okay, but I will be, even as my plan to never see Eric again falls apart.

"Everly."

Eric says my name lowly. One of his hands is pressed against my face, and my head is against his chest. He breathes slowly, like he's forcing himself to calm down, and he's pulled me back a few steps. Zander and Harrison have gone ahead to finish the treat trail, and I should go with them, but I can't move. I'm incredibly freaked out, far more than I want to be.

Landon coming after me was one thing, but Colton attacking me because I wouldn't tell him when Eric would be back was another.

"I'm sorry we didn't get here sooner. We saw Zander and he kept saying you were right there, but we didn't see you. Not until he had you by the hair."

Eric keeps talking. His fingers dig into my hair, and he hasn't let go. His uniform is rough against my cheek, but it's reassuring. He's solid and steady, unmoving and a little more relaxed in his posture. I nod against him, listening to him ask if I'm okay, and I will myself not to cry.

I will be fine.

I hadn't been hurt, other than where Colton had grabbed my arm and yanked my hair, but that wasn't anything to cry over. I tried to get the image of him coming at me out of my head, but I can't. When I shut my eyes, Colton's face is right there, lunging for me with a snarl.

"Everly, say something."

"The phone died." I blurt out, and I lift my head away from him. My arms had been around him, clinging on the best I could, but I let go to look at him. "I hadn't heard from you in forever and I was going to call but it's dead. I don't know how to turn it back on."

"I figured. I forgot to give you a charger," Eric mutters, and he looks annoyed. "I'll see if Jason has one. He usually carries a million out of fear that he won't be able to call Meghan."

"Why are you guys here?" I look up at him and he brushes my hair off my cheek. He stalls by fixing the flowers, and for the second time, he pulls them out. He scowls at the ones stuck in further but gives up when he realizes he can't untangle them without destroying my hair. "Did you know he'd be here?"

"No, but we caught wind of their plans for this evening. We have soldiers everywhere around Amity. All along the border, all throughout the faction. You guys really like inviting their attacks." He pauses, and his smile accompanies his shrug. "Plus, Harrison wanted to see Zander. He said you were taking him to the festival tonight."

"How did he…" I look back in the direction of the trail, but I feel like I already know the answers. "It doesn't matter. Thank you for taking care of Colton. He's one of them. He knows Landon. He came looking for me, just like I thought."

Eric is quiet. He nods, but he still doesn't look very happy.

"I wasn't expecting to see him. He wanted to know when you'd be back in Amity.," I say quietly, and he scoffs.

"I guess it's his lucky day," Eric laughs, and it's sarcastic as ever. "If he behaves, maybe I'll sit in on his interrogation."

I smile, trying to move on from what had happened. Go figure that the one night I enjoy myself in Amity, something stupid happens. I inherently blame Landon, linking this back to him. If not for him, Colton wouldn't even know my name.

"He said Landon told him I'm an idiot."

"Would an idiot have been able to punch him in the face?" Eric asks, he raises his eyebrows at me. There's a flash of pride on his face, and he pulls me back against him. He's lit up by the tiny lights in the trees, and the glimmering outline of the shark. "Because when I came around the corner, you were holding your own. You'd still fail a Dauntless initiation, but…I give you credit for trying. Points for bravery, Amity."

I laugh, because he looks completely serious.

"What else do you have to do to stay in Dauntless?" I move my hands higher, flat against the panels of the uniform jacket, and he lets me. He stays still, watching me with a smirk, and his lips turn up. "Can you tell me?"

"No, I cannot. I don't need you showing up, trying to infiltrate Four's class. He's very sensitive about how many transfers he has left." Eric rolls his eyes, and I have the feeling he and this Four don't get along very well. "You'll stress him out. He's already whining that he's lost a few."

"Do you get along with him?" I find myself mildly curious about this mystery person, if not because I'd seen a bunch of pictures of Dauntless.

"Hardly." Eric answers sharply, but his attention is back fully on me. "Are you okay to walk back? I'll ask Jason if he has a charger. You should probably get back to Zander before Harrison takes him home."

"I'll be alright. I think." I answer, and I hate that he's leaving again. I move my hands away from him, and I drop them by my side.

"Okay. We'll find this…warlock." Eric points somewhere in the distance, and we take off together.

He leads me away from Jason and Not Jason, yelling at Jeremy for handcuffing Colton the wrong way, and down the path. Every so often, his hand touches mine. His fingers graze my own, and finally he grows tired of the feeling, and grabs my hand.

He takes mine in his, pressing his palm flat against mine, then intertwines our fingers.

The feeling is just as dizzying as kissing him.

For a few blissful minutes, Eric holds my hand tightly. The two of us walk down the dark pathway, through the shark's mouth, until we find Harrison and Zander, both laughing as LeRoy shows them a magic trick.


	13. Erudite Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following along!

It snows on Friday.

I should have known it was coming, and I also should have listened to my father when he insisted I bring a jacket. I ignored his warning because I was late, and I couldn't be late. Mable was slowly starting to put together the end of our first session of initiation, and I couldn't look like I wasn't trying. I'd spent the first part of it woefully distracted, thanks to the sudden arrival of Eric in my life, and it hadn't exactly slowed down any.

A week ago, he showed up at the Fall Festival, only to save me from being murdered by Colton.

Murdered is a strong word, because really, I didn't know what Colton would have done. With my luck, he'd have dragged me to Evelyn and she would have made me talk, or worse, dragged me to Landon and he would have tried to make me talk. The encounter left me feeling nervous, but for a good reason.

Eric walked me to the end of the treat trail, said goodbye, and said he'd call at some point. There was no goodbye kiss, no final check to make sure I was alright, or anything that hinted he wasn't just keeping me alive for some dastardly reason. He stalked off with Harrison, chewing on the side of his cheek with pure, buzzing irritation, and they left without looking back.

Zander and I collected all his candy, and worn out from the thrill of both a pumpkin filled with sugary treats and getting to see Harrison, he asked to go home. The whole walk was filled with dread; Zander was likely to blurt out he'd seen Harrison, or worse, watched Colton come after me. To my surprise, he proclaimed he was tired and didn't want to talk. He handed his candy over, asked if our father would read him a bedtime story, and he went to sleep before I'd untangled the last flower out of my hair.

I decided I wouldn't bring up getting attacked just yet. It felt like a scary secret that could potentially unravel everything, but most dangerous of all - it would worry my mother. So I smiled, ignored her lingering stare on the dull bruise slowly forming on my arm, and I shoved the sleeve back down. I went to bed praying Zander would think it was all a dream, and for once, I was lucky.

By morning, he seemed to have forgotten all about it, and instead focused on his new obsession of collecting frogs.

I wasn't as distracted, because I now had to finish watching small children fling stuff at each other, mostly toys and occasionally a small farm animal that couldn't escape in time, all while Mable scored me on how well I was doing. I knew she was gracious with her observations, and generous with the points that she could award. I'd caught a glimpse of the sheet when I helped her put band aids on Cody's knees, and I was horrified to see that my own was…interesting.

She had done her best to keep me here.

No one ever really failed our initiation, unless you were out there killing chickens, but there was a chance I could be the first.

She'd given me every opportunity to make up any points I might have missed, but it didn't feel good to learn she wasn't thinking I had a career in childcare. I didn't even want to work in this area, but I felt her sympathy as she shuffled the papers away, trying to hide that Landon was right.

I didn't want to stay here and raise small children.

My only hope was that our next session, labeled to be determined, was something I could feign more interest in.

Or maybe I would be joining Evelyn's army.

The possibility becomes more real than ever, when I walk right into Landon, and he makes it very clear he's going to walk me to Mable.

"You punched him in the face. The fuck are the Dauntless soldiers teaching you? You know they train their soldiers like they're mindless animals. Do this, jump over that. Go there. Shoot that. Shoot it again. Don't question anything. Is that what you were thinking you should have picked?"

Landon glares at me, not even bothering to pretend he isn't mad. Him walking with me is ridiculous, but I don't really have a choice. Almost everyone is out watching the snowfall, and almost all of them wave to us.

"Look, you really think people aren't going to figure out that you're getting a little nuts? At some point, you'll have to make a decision about where you want to be." Landon waves hello to May, and she ignores him. She clutches her duck a little tighter, and loudly announces for the ones on her deck not to move. "Fucking crazy lady. Everyone in this faction is losing it."

"She's very nice," I defend May, because at least she knew Landon was garbage. "Can you let me walk by myself? I don't want to talk to you. Maybe I'll punch you. Maybe that'll make you leave me alone."

"I saw you at the meeting. You have to be considering choosing a different side." Landon ignores my statement completely, and instead focuses on my appearance at the factionless rally. "You want to learn to fight? Tobias can teach you to fight. He said he would. I don't know why you're so hesitant about all this."

"I don't want to join her stupid army," I hiss, and I pull my sleeves down further. "I want you to get away from me. I don't care about Evelyn or Tobias or whoever is teaching whatever. The Dauntless soldiers aren't going away and you know it. That's why you sent Colton after me."

"Hey, whoa, it wasn't my idea. It was Evelyn's," Landon answers, and he holds his palms up. "You know a little too much for someone who seems to attract the men in black."

"I told you, I won't say…" I stop, because I was going to tell him I wouldn't say anything to anyone. But I had. I had already told Eric what was going on, and I'd even given him names. "I won't have anything to do with her. I don't think forming an army is right."

"But it's fine for Dauntless to have one?"

"That's their job, Landon. Just like your job is to work in the fields or raise animals or whatever it is you picked this week. Everyone has a job here, and our job in Amity is definitely not starting an army that wants to overtake the factions. How do you know Evelyn won't try to overthrow Johanna?" I stop, and my exasperation is clear as day. "How do you know she won't kill you when you know too much?"

I watch his expression tense, but I don't pay attention.

I'm too busy trying to figure out a way to really make sure Eric knows I'm right: Evelyn isn't going to let me stay in Amity unharmed, not for long. I was walking around with all the information they wanted, and I'd already spilled it. She must have assumed this, or perhaps rumors of the Dauntless soldiers showing up made their way to her the same way the rumors about the factionless made their way to them.

"I work in the kitchens, but I guess that's beneath you to know what another person does here." Landon crosses his arms over his chest, and he shrugs. "All Evelyn wants is a chance. But she's not going to let you stand in her way. Especially not if you're going to ruin things by snitching to a guy who has zero interest in you. You really think some soldier from Dauntless wants anything from you? I can tell you what he wants, and it's not to come and visit because he likes talking to you. He's not gonna come save you. Not when it comes down to it."

He pauses, and his next words make everything click into place.

"If they can't get to you, then they'll come for the others. We all missed your dad the other night. It would be a shame if…something happened to him."

"You asshole. You did this to me," I stare at him, and the urge to punch him is strong. "You brought me to her knowing that if I was in deep enough, I'd have no choice but to either join her or you. You let me see everything she was doing. Told me all the names. Made sure she knows who I am. And now, now she's going to send her army in to come get me or my family, until I pick her side. Is that right? Landon?"

I should punch him.

He smiles, glancing briefly over at Mable, waiting for me to join the class, and his eyes narrow.

"I guess you're smarter than I thought."

"Fuck, fuck fuck!"

I slam down my lunch tray, and Sophia and Courtney both startle.

"Uh, rough day, Everly?" Courtney scoots over so I can sit down, and she gestures at my dress. "Girl! Where is your jacket? It's snowing!"

"I'm fine. I'm not cold," I mutter, and I flop down with zero enthusiasm. "And yeah, so far, this is the worst day of my life. It's only continuing to get worse, too."

Across the Dome, lingering near the edge of the kitchen so he has a view of me, is Landon. He's watching and smiling, and his head is cocked to the side to match his crooked logic. He looks terrifyingly happy, because he's about to get what he wants.

Me.

I'd spent the whole morning focused on the class, but I couldn't get the thought of Colton out of my head. He'd come for me while I was with Zander, and it was clear they weren't afraid of my family witnessing any of this. I'd have no choice but to join the army or agree to at least make it look like I would marry Landon, if only to keep my family safe. My last chance at none of this happening would be to call Eric and ask him to come back, but he'd already witnessed the attack. I thought for sure the soldiers would pop up again, but they'd been gone for days.

Since the Fall Festival, they hadn't returned.

They'd taken Colton with them, and things had been quiet. The weather turned; the skies darkened quicker than before, and the daylight was starting to feel scarce. The icy chill showed up in the morning, fizzled a bit by lunch, but returned by dinner. The snow had shown up out of nowhere, not really sticking to anything, but a reminder that pretty soon, no one would be outside if they could help it.

"Did you have fun at the festival? We didn't see you. We thought you'd bring Zander to the hayride," Sophia changes the subject brightly, and she follows my glare over to Landon. "Oh for fuck's sake, why is he looking at you like that? Did you agree to go on a date with him?"

"No. But you know how we went to the meeting?" I ask, watching him smile even wider.

She nods, but she turns all the way around to glare at Landon, and he finally slithers away.

"They've decided I know too much." I watch Landon until he's back in the kitchen, and I reach for my fork. I'm hesitant to eat the food, because I have no way of knowing he didn't poison it. "I took Zander to the treat trail and I got attacked by one of the factionless. Someone working for her. He knew my name and everything. Landon told me today I either have to choose them or risk whatever happens next. He threatened my father."

"Everly, are you making this up? Please, tell me you're kidding." Courtney pleads, and she scoots away from me. It's not intended to be mean, because she's panicking. "I'm sorry, but this is absolutely insane. What are you going to do? Did you call Eric?"

"I thought you said he was dangerous," I remind her.

She blanches.

I force myself to take a bite of the salad, chewing it slowly, hoping if he did poison me, it'll be quick.

"I did, but at least he can arrest Landon for his involvement or something." Courtney watches me, and she shakes her head. "You need to call Eric. I take back what I said. I thought he was dangerous, but he's probably the only one who could take care of Landon without getting in trouble here."

"I will. Landon walked me to the class today and basically confirmed that he's siding with the factionless and knew Colton was coming for me. I should tell Eric what he said."

"Yeah, yeah you should." Sophia agrees.

She quiets down almost immediately, because we're joined by a few from our initiation class. One of the guys is from Amity, and the other is a transfer named Andy. They both look thrilled to have found a seat with us, and even more thrilled that they aren't eating with Mable or the kids.

"Are you having a good day? Everly?"

I look up to the one named Andy smiling at me. He's not at all bad looking, and he's not from here. His shirt is slightly too large, and his hair is still too clean cut. He looks friendly, nicer than some of the guys here, and very eager to get to talk to me.

"You okay over there? Is your salad really that good?" He smiles again when I look right at him, and his eyes are hopeful. "I uh, do you want me to get you a sandwich?"

His stare leaves mine, to look at my shoulders, then my arms. His gaze is far unlike Landon's creepy, possessive sneer, and far less welcome than Eric's. In that second, I miss Eric so much it's like a slap to the face. I miss those brief moments when things were warm and good and he was mumbling all kinds of stuff into my neck and his hands were on my back to coax me closer, but they're gone.

He's gone, too.

Probably in Dauntless, while I sit in Amity, trying to think of a way to stay alive.

"I'm good, thank you. That's really nice of you to offer," I smile back, but my smile falters a second later.

There, breezing in like he owns the place, is Colton.

Eric doesn't answer his phone.

It rings for a desperately long time. I stand there in one of the horse stables, near bales of hay, watching Cody and Holden practice jumping down from the second level.

Once I realized this could keep them entertained for a few minutes, I figured I could try and call Eric. I'd shoved the phone in my pocket this morning, thinking I might have needed it. Eric had given me a charger, a weird cord that took me a few minutes to figure out how and where to plug in, but it worked. The phone sat dark for a few hours, then lit up.

My spirit turns dark when Eric doesn't answer, and instead it goes to a recorded greeting, rudely daring me to even think about leaving him a message.

I don't even know how to leave a message.

I sigh in frustration, and I glare at the phone.

"Well, shit."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Cody and Holden repeat, and I shake my head furiously.

"No, don't repeat that! Just…keep jumping! See who can jump the farthest!" I return to the phone, and I try to remember what I knew about it. I knew it had a list of phone numbers I could call, but odds were, the ones who I would call, were with Eric. I knew the phone had photos Rylan had left on there, which would do me no good.

But Rylan had said something that caught my attention, and I'd forgotten to ask Eric about it.

He'd said Harrison had texted them.

I push a few random icons on the screen, until a box opens up. I stare at it, and it only takes a second to figure out I can select Eric's name, and type a message below it. I'm painfully slow as I figure out how to tap the letters to select the ones I want, and by the time I write _Eric, hello, this is Everly,_ I'm a little faster.

He responds immediately.

I'm so surprised I nearly fall over, and I sink onto the hay bale while Cody does his best not to kick me in the head.

"Move! We're jumping!" Holden commands, but I ignore him. "Okay, please move!"

"Fine."

I scoot over, focusing on the words before me.

_Are you alright? I'm in a meeting._

His texting is very precise.

I read the message in his voice, and I smile, even though it's hardly anything personal or even remotely sweet. I read it again, debating how to answer him: – _no, I think someone is going to kill me might seem a little needy,_ and - _please hurry and come back because they're gonna kill my family_ might seem a little too desperate.

_Everly._

He sends my name, and the little icon appears beneath it. He must be typing something else, because it stays that way, and I sit there patiently.

_Are you dead, Amity? I told you to stay away from Carole. Look, I know why you're calling._

_We had to let Colton go. We need him to lead us to this army you said they're forming. He wasn't wrong that what we saw was you two struggling. We let him off with a warning, and I know his presence is alarming. He did promise to stay away from you, though if anything does happen, we have soldiers patrolling the outskirts of Amity all week and Harrison is working to get the cameras back up._

I read it all, word by word, and my stomach sinks. I type back carefully, making sure everything is right.

_What if he kills me before you get them up?_

I don't see his answer.

Cody and Holden jump at the same time, and the bales of hay come crashing down. They fall down in a spectacular fashion, and the hay flies up into the air, leaving a storm of dust and hay and grass all over me.

"Seriously?"

"Oops." Holden takes off, and I'm left with Cody and a giant mess to clean up.

By the time it's dark outside, it's clear my chances of staying in Amity hinge on both Evelyn deciding she doesn't need to kill me or how well this next session goes. It's unlikely I'd be made factionless, but I wasn't doing a fantastic job with the children, nor was I thrilled to spend my afternoon fixing hay bales. Mable came in to find me, Cody, and Holden attempting to clean up. She forced a smile but called a few of the farmers over to finish. Their expressions were the same as hers, and they hinted that Hank Carlen's daughter was not cut out for life on the farm.

She had me sign my name on the very bottom of the paper, and gently told me I was doing fine. She said she knew this was hard, that not everyone had the patience to be around the small kids all day, but we both knew everyone in Amity had a lot of patience. I thought back to Rylan asking me if I could be patient, and I guess this was proof I couldn't.

When the day was over, I trudged home, and I was so despondent that I didn't even notice Forrest trying to flag me down. I kept thinking how I'd be the first person in Amity not to pass our initiation, and I'd get to stay here solely because we needed members to work and my father could plead this case before Johanna. At the rate I was going, she'd take pity on me, and let me stay just to help wash dishes or walk the cows.

"Hey! Everly! Earth to Everly! What happened? Why are you so sad? Did someone try to kill you?"

I look up to see Forrest sprinting at me, and he's so enthused that I crack the barest of smiles.

"Not today."

"Hey, I need to talk to you. I went to get some eggs from May and she said someone attacked you. Is that true?" Forrest takes hold of my arm, and he pulls me off the main pathway and toward his house. "She said the soldiers were here again and one of them got the guy away from you. I normally wouldn't put much into what May said, but she was really worried."

"Yeah, it's true. The guy was from the factionless army and I was right. I either have to help them and side with Landon or they'll kill me." I pause, not missing Forrest's eye roll. "Okay, well maybe not kill me but they clearly aren't afraid of hurting me."

"I'll show you how to fight. Come on. I can show you now," Forrest encourages me to follow him, but I come to a stop. His gesture is kind, but ultimately, unnecessary.

"Forrest…I don't need…it won't help. I know how to fight. The guy was huge."

"You know how to fight? How? Who showed you how to fight?"

His suspicion is rightfully concerned. He keeps moving me forward, and we reach his house before I can answer.

"Okay, fine. Eric showed me how to fight. He showed me how to punch someone. I tried to punch Colton and all it did was piss him off." I knock Forrest out of my way, and I turn around so I can go home. "I appreciate you wanting to help, but at this point, it's a lost cause."

"So what are you going to do? May wasn't making this up. I could tell." Forrest's stare moves past me, and it brightens when Willow steps outside. "Hey! Look who's here. Everly is staying for dinner."

I glare at him, because I had no plans of staying for dinner, but it doesn't last.

Willow looks so delighted to see me, that I can't do anything but follow them both inside, and keep my mouth shut.

"I know who Colton is."

Willow's voice is so quiet that it's hard to hear. I half wonder how Forrest could hear her, because he seemed deaf. After growing up with siblings everywhere and a house that rarely was quiet, he often tuned everyone out and only responded to what he found interesting.

"You do?"

Willow nods, smoothing out a piece of blonde hair. She's dressed much nicer than she was the first time I met her. Her dress is soft looking, a little fancier than the one I have on, and she's much prettier than when she hid behind Forrest. I assume it's all because she's happy now; she's safe with my brother, and no longer on her own, or stuck in the middle of an army.

"I was with them for a long time. He's one of the…the better soldiers for her. He's not afraid of anyone. He hates the guy who is helping them, because he loves Evelyn. Not like, Colton's in love with her, but she's like a mother to him. He's never had any parents before and she immediately accepted him without any hesitation."

Willow and I walk slowly, and I find myself in no real hurry to get home.

"You were factionless?" I look at her, wrapped in an oversized sweater and Forrest's warmest boots, and she nods.

"It's not awful. There are plenty of camps and groups and if you can find one that's willing to take you in, everyone shares everything. We would cook whatever we could find, and we stayed wherever it was warmest. The woods are easier to stay in because there's water and sometimes crops. We've always lived by Amity, and I didn't know Hank was your dad. He would come by and give my family food and water. Sometimes he'd bring muffins or dessert, but I always gave it to the younger kids. They were hungrier."

"What about your parents?" I try not to pry too much, but my mind was whirling. I had no idea how factionless even had families, let alone had lived this way for years. "How did they…"

"They aren't really my parents," Willow shrugs, but it's not anything but understanding. "They found me when I was little, and when no one came looking for me, they just kept me. It was just us for a long time. When Forrest asked me to marry him, I was worried about leaving them, but he said he'd help them, too. Your brother got them a house and jobs here, and it's the first time they haven't lived outside. They're very grateful for him. You have no idea."

"Forrest is a good guy." I sneak a look at her, and she's smiling. I can't even begin to imagine her life before Forrest, or how it must feel to live with him now. "They seem really nice."

"They are. They're really happy. All they've ever wanted was to be a part of somewhere. My mom failed out of Candor because she couldn't pass some test and they wouldn't let her retake it. My dad failed out of Dauntless when he broke his arm. He said they made him keep fighting and he couldn't win. So, they kicked him out." She speaks softly, and every so often, she looks like the words are hard to say. "But Colton, Colton is sort of…feral. Most factionless don't want to be factionless. Most just made a mistake or had a bad streak of luck. Some aren't all there. They don't even know what's going on. But Colton, he likes not belonging. He likes being against everyone. He thinks Evelyn is brilliant, but even he didn't agree with her at first."

"So you know him?"

"Everyone knows who he is. He asked me to be more involved a few times. He's violent because he can be, and Evelyn uses him as a way to get what she wants. She likes that he isn't afraid. She's not afraid, either. She doesn't like her real son because she says he's too scared of what others would think if they knew he was helping her. He sometimes didn't show up when he said he would. He told us he couldn't make it because of other commitments and Evelyn would berate him for letting her down."

"Her son?" I look at Willow, and her hair is dotted with a slew of melty snowflakes. They sparkle, then vanish almost as quickly as they arrived. "She has a son?"

"The guy training everyone. You probably met him. He's not nice, but he tries to help her as best he can. His name is Tobias."

I turn to look at her, and I nearly trip over a slick part of the pathway.

"He's not factionless, is he?"

Willow shakes her head, and her gaze turns skyward. For a minute, she watches the snowfall, lazy but heavy enough that it threatens to stick and her answer is very quiet.

So quiet it's nearly lost in a gust of wind, but it confirms what I thought before.

"No, he's not."

This time, he calls.

I open my eyes to the phone ringing lowly, turned down so it wouldn't wake anyone up. I'd gone to lie down earlier than normal, happy to have a day off tomorrow and ready to be done chasing after the younger members of Amity, but I wasn't entirely asleep when the ringing began.

I nearly miss the call. It rings continuously, and I fumble to answer it.

When I do, the voice is low and rough and accompanied by a clacking sound.

"Are you sleeping? It's barely seven thirty."

Eric's voice barks at me, and he sounds indignant that someone would go to bed so early. It felt late to me. I'd gotten home from Forrest's around six, explained to my mom I was going to wash the hay out of my hair, and went upstairs. I took a shower, thought about how I could get a hold of Eric, then dozed off before I could follow through with that thought.

But it's clear he's not tired, nor has he forgotten that I'd messaged him.

"I had a long day. Plus, it's freezing outside," I mumble, and he makes a noise of disapproval.

"Fine. I'm not sure how the weather affects that but at least I know you're alive."

His tone makes me wake up a little more. He sounds pissed off, and I wonder if it was because I called him.

"I'm sorry," I sit up a little, and I pull the phone away from me to squint at it. His name is lit up on the screen, but that's it. I liked it better when I could see him, but he doesn't offer up that option. "I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting earlier. Colton was in the Dome today and I just…panicked."

"He was in the Dome?"

The disbelief is heavy in his words.

"Yeah, he walked right through to go find Landon in the kitchens. I thought you'd keep him for longer. Won't he go back to Evelyn?"

Eric is quiet. I can hear him typing something, then he stops and exhales sharply. "We want him to. That's why we let him go. It wasn't my idea nor did I agree that it was smart, but I was outvoted."

"By whom?" I wonder who would vote yes on such a stupid plan. "Doesn't that make me…."

The typing continues.

"Live bait? Yes. Yes, it does. Which is why I'm calling to make sure you're alive. That and you never responded to my message."

"Oh, I didn't know you responded. Cody and Holden knocked over all the hay bales and I had to pick them up and then May had the farmers come help and I knew they were thinking it was my fault everything was such a mess…" I stop, because I can clearly picture the look on his face at this announcement. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Absolutely not."

His answer makes me smile, because I know I can.

"How do you know if someone is divergent? You know how you said you were looking for people who are divergent? Wouldn't…what if Colton is one of them?" I wait patiently for him to answer, and he slams something shut. "Eric? Are you working? I can call you back-"

"There's a test. You take the aptitude test and it tells you what faction you belong in. You don't have to pick that one, but your test results should be one hundred percent. If there is a single percentage of variance, it's labeled as divergence. The people who administer the test write them off as errors. For a long time, we did nothing with them. Now, Jeanine wants to know the names of anyone with a variance to their score."

"A percentage?" The horror I felt at Colton attacking me pales in comparison to this news. "Like…like three percent?"

"Yes, three percent would be a variance. I don't know if Colton is divergent. He's never been tested. His name isn't associated with a faction or a test. I told you I could look him up, and I did. There is no record of a Colton anywhere. If he's been factionless his whole life, which we assume, then he won't have a test result. Which is why we look to the factionless first for divergence. Many of them are probably divergent, especially the ones who failed their initiations."

"Oh, well…what about…"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Amity. The divergence testing is being put on the back burner for now. Jeanine is more worried she'll have an army coming for her than if someone doesn't completely identify with their chosen faction." Eric cuts me off, and his tone is sharp. "Harrison will be in Amity tomorrow to set up some of the cameras. He'll have a team with him. This will give us a better view of Amity and anyone coming in or out."

I'm not reassured.

My stomach feels like it's in knots, even with them close by.

"Everly?"

"Landon pretty much told me I either have to choose him or Evelyn will come for me. I know too much for them to leave me alone." My own answer isn't sharp, but the realization that I could die over this is. "I don't want to pick either of those choices. He basically told me today that I would have to or they'd go after my dad."

"You won't."

I nod, and I wonder if he can feel my hesitation through the phone.

"Yeah, but…he's here and you're not. I see him all the time. And Colton just walking back in like…nothing happened."

"A lot happened. He has a tracker in his neck. He can't take a deep breath without me knowing. I told you, I won't let you get hurt. I'm working on it, but I'm not supposed to be overly involved in this. I have other work to do," Eric sounds like he's trying to persuade both of us. "Amity? Did you fall asleep again? Are you sure you don't have narcolepsy?"

"No, I was just thinking of all the things I'll never get to do because I'll either be dead or part of an army trying to take over the world," I say brightly, and he doesn't like this.

"No one is going to kill you. If someone goes missing from Amity, it'll draw attention to them. I'm confident we'll have this fixed and then…"

"And then what?" I wonder this out loud. "Will I ever see you again?"

Eric falls quiet. I try to picture him in his apartment, maybe sitting on his bed, risking blowing his cover to call me. I try to imagine him in his meeting, too. I wonder if he'd read my message while sitting there, then ignored everyone to answer it.

"This isn't…I don't…"

He's not quite so eloquent with this answer. This must be a struggle for him as well. We were factions apart, and our only connection was a phone with spotty reception and a slew of photos that hinted that his life in Dauntless was much more fun than mine in Amity. The connection I feel to him might not be what he felt, but I was still holding onto hope that it is.

"What's your dad like? Does he like living in Erudite?"

I lie my head back on the pillow, and I pull the covers up. I wait for him to respond, but it's a gamble. He has absolutely no reason to answer such a question, and no reason to keep talking to me. He'd already told me he's working on the situation, and there's not much more he can do.

Not to mention the fact that he didn't seem to love answering my questions.

"Is he nice?"

"You already asked me that," Eric answers flatly, and there's a second of silence. "He's…fine. Very smart, very good at his job, very busy. He likes Erudite because…they take themselves very seriously."

"And your mom?" I close my eyes, and I put the phone beside me. I can still hear him, every deep exhale and sharp inhale, and I wonder if anyone ever asked him about them. I idly wonder what his mother looked like, or if she was nice. "Is she-"

"Blythe is the last person in the world you'd want to know anything about. She doesn't like anyone, not even my father."

This time, the sharpness in his words is personal. But I get a small flicker of appreciation that he told me her name.

"Do you have a brother? Or a sister?" I yawn, hoping maybe the blonde girl in the photo wasn't Ashley, but a sibling.

"Didn't we go over all this? I don't have any brothers or sisters. Even if I did, I wouldn't see them. Faction before blood, Amity."

He repeats some mantra I've heard over and over, but Amity barely acknowledged it existed. If someone left Amity, for any reason, we still kept in touch. They'd sneak back for celebrations. Parties. Weddings. End of life celebrations. It was common for them to try to maintain contact, by any means, just so their parents wouldn't be left wondering if they were doing alright.

"What about me? I don't live in your faction."

"Yeah, well I've made an exception. I can't let you get murdered, so I'll just…stay in contact with you." He sounds sulky now, and his change in tone is amusing. "Happy?"

"Sort of," I yawn again, and I keep my eyes closed. "Are Jason and Rylan from Erudite? Do they live by you?"

"Yes."

"With you?" I wonder out loud, and he makes a sound like he's dying.

"God no."

"Rylan left his uniform here," I mumble, and my eyes start to feel heavy. I'm torn between wanting to fall asleep and wanting to stay awake just so Eric will keep talking. "We washed it. My mom got all the blood out. She used it to help make Zander's costume. He thought he looked like Harrison. Where is Harrison? Does he live with you?"

"Amity, are you drunk?" Eric asks, but he sounds like he's trying not to laugh. "No one lives with me. No one ever will."

"That sounds…nice. I've never lived alone before. It might be…too much. Or too quiet."

He says something back, but this time, I don't hear his answer. I'm sure his comment is sarcastic and dry, but I miss it completely. I fall asleep while he keeps talking, drifting off before I can say goodnight.

In the morning, I wake up with the phone still on the pillow and a blinking icon informing me I have eighteen messages.

The snow doesn't last.

The lush flakes never come, and instead, the sunshine wins. It beats out the storm clouds, opening up the sky and the Amity faction, and sending our members outside in droves.

For another fleeting moment, I enjoy living here.

I walk along the pathway until it splits, carefully keeping an eye on Zander and Leon. They're a few steps ahead, both dressed in oversized coats and mittens, and they break into a sprint as we approach the field of resilient flowers. These are the last lingering ones alive in Amity, and they're doing their best to hold on. They cover the entryway to the playground, a ramshackle, rundown, dangerous, but ultimately very fun, play area.

It had been here as long as I could remember.

It was off to the side, tucked away so it wasn't entirely in the middle of the faction. I liked that you could see it from the main road, so parents weren't afraid to let their kids come play, but it was surrounded by flowers and trees, and secluded enough that you didn't feel like you were too close.

The playground equipment itself was cool, and even I could find some appreciation in how creative it was. There were treehouses linked together by rope bridges and reinforced by large planks of wood. Slides came down from each tree house. A wooden jungle gym lead to a large, worn out looking pirate ship. There were swings, bolted beneath a rocky boulder that provided shade, a cave to crawl through, and dozens of places to sit and watch.

Today, the playground is packed.

The kids I normally see in initiation are everywhere, spilling over every surface and climbing on anything possible. Someone has brought a horse, and a small crowd is brushing his tail and oohing and ahhhing when the horse lets them, and someone else has brought bubbles. A few float over toward the entrance, popping over us to the delight of Zander and Leon.

I encourage them to run ahead. We'd been given a few extra days off since Mable had come down with the flu. She had tried to find someone to help cover for her, but it was decided there was no real rush. Instead, we were given time to spend doing whatever we wanted, or in my case, watching Zander.

I didn't totally mind.

He was a nice distraction from waiting for Colton to show up, and a better distraction from doing my best to refrain from texting Eric. Since I'd discovered I could message him, I thought of all kinds of things I could tell him.

Unfortunately, I'm sure they all ranked low on the scale of what he wanted to hear.

I read the eighteen messages he'd sent, including the ones from when I didn't answer, and I imagined him typing out each one. They ranged from _Everly, are you alright? Are you in danger? to EVERLY EITHER TYPE ONE FOR YES, YOU'RE ALIVE OR TWO FOR NO, YOU'RE DEAD. OR CALL. I'M NOT IN THE MEETING ANYMORE._

There were others.

_Amity, do you know how to check these? Probably not._

_Everly, did you ready anything I sent you?_

_Hey, Everly, this is Rylan. If you were to give Jason a nickname, would it just be Jason? Should he be insulted that his name is actually a nickname? Should I tell you his middle name? You could use that as a nickname. Sometimes I call him General Jason but I would type it out as General Gason and he hates that. Eric says I have to give him his phone back so please answer me, personally, when you can. Thank you. All my love, Rylan._

_You can ignore Rylan. Don't respond to him. It only encourages him._

_For fuck's sake, do I have to come and pretend I'm looking for a chicken to know you haven't been murdered?_

_I think you do have narcolepsy._

_Did you really just fall asleep?_

_Fine._

_Goodnight, Amity._

I like his messages.

They swayed from politely and almost certainly professionally concerned, to amusingly entertaining. I was tempted to respond to each one, but really, I had nothing new to tell him. I hadn't seen Colton or Landon, and I wasn't all that mad about it.

But now, I sort of wish I had some news.

Because there, standing in front of the ship and glaring at the playground like it's personally wronged him, is Eric.

"What are you doing here?"

I crane my head up to look at him, and he looks down in surprise. I find it hard to believe he didn't see me walking in. Eric has a high attention to detail, and it's clear he's been sent to survey the area. His look of disgust probably comes from all the children screaming around him, but he ignores them in favor of looking at me.

"How are you, Amity? I see you've managed to elude danger for a few days." His lips turn up at his own slick hilarity, but we both know he's not entirely joking.

"It's barely two in the afternoon. Who knows what could happen? How are you? Did you come to get Rylan's uniform?" I watch him carefully. His face appears even sharper today. His brow bone looks pronounced, like he's been internalizing his life decisions, and his lips press together when someone jumps past him, grazing his uniform for a fraction of a second.

He glares at them, but it's quick.

"No, but I'm sure he'll want to come by and pick it up. He's over there." Eric points in a direction neither of us bother to look. "You sure you're okay? You look… well rested. Probably because you go to bed at six pm."

"I do not," I can't help but grin at him, because I had fallen asleep while talking to him. I'd woken up to the phone beside me, and the embarrassing knowledge that I couldn't stay awake. I blamed Colton's attack. The rush of adrenaline was oddly draining once it wore off, and I'd been left feeling out of sorts for a few days. "I was tired. I got attacked. No one trained me for what comes after that."

"Nothing. You walk it off," Eric shrugs, and he steps closer. His boots crunch over the ground, smashing down dry pine needles. "No sign of Colton?"

"None." I answer, and he reaches for my hands. He takes my fingers in his, inspecting them slowly, and he touches a few. They are red, a little darker than when I'd punched Landon, but there's only the faintest hint of soreness. In all reality, I'd like to punch Colton again. I would be better prepared if he came back this time around, maybe even enough to really hit him. "Do you think he'll come back? Even though you guys are here?"

"Yes." Eric's fingers stay on mine, and he presses on the one next to my pinky. He stays there, memorizing something, because his expression is distant for a flashing moment. "He'll come back. You said Landon confirmed they won't let you stay here without joining them. He's not wrong for thinking he's got you trapped. He's smarter than I'd given him credit for."

"Is that how you work? You trap people?"

My question makes him smirk.

He doesn't respond right away, and I wonder if this is one of his tactics. Like Landon, Eric has the innate ability to get close without trying. At least with me. To anyone else, this had to look like an elaborate scheme concocted to get what he wanted. Maybe Eric got what he wanted by letting everyone's words sink in, making them second guess what they'd said.

It was smart; I immediately feel dumb for saying anything, and I pull my hand away.

"Never mind."

"I'm not here to trap you. I came by to keep you safe." The words sound foreign coming from him, and they must feel foreign to say. He stops himself from saying anything else, and sort of winces. "They'll mess up soon. Whoever is training them is growing sloppy. We had one wander so close to the Dauntless faction that one of the initiates took him down. He was armed with our own weapons. Told me all kinds of names. Landon, Colton, Evelyn, all the ones you've said. Hank. He mentioned Johanna, but he didn't implicate her. This goes beyond you. You're just…involved because of Landon."

Eric says Landon's name with great distaste, and it's well deserved.

"If I wasn't involved, would you still be coming back here?" My question is very curious. "Or would you assign someone else to be here?"

Eric tilts his head, and his hands touch mine again. He's a pleasant sight even in the armor-like uniform. He stands out against the background of kids and playtime, but every so often, he glances back at them. His gaze is both unimpressed and sort of…strange. I can't put my finger on it, but I don't think he can, either.

"I planned to call you as soon as Jason got back. He went to get one of the patrol squads. Johanna is giving them a hard time, and the newer ones aren't always as cordial as they should be." He pulls me closer, shockingly in front of the swarm of toddlers and the few parents who are paying zero attention, and he shrugs. "You'd be safer elsewhere, you know. Away from Amity. You'd be better off somewhere Landon couldn't get to you."

"With you?"

His lips part open to answer, but he closes them, then opens them again.

I want to hear him say yes, but fate has other plans.

"Eric!" Jason isn't the one who interrupts us, but Jeremy. He shows up at precisely the wrong moment, and the second he yells Eric's name, Eric drops my hands.

"Hey! Hey! I need you to come with me. We think we found an entire camp, and Harrison wants everyone here to check it out." Jeremy jogs over to us, and he stops when he's so close I could touch him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt the investigation. What's your name again? You look really familiar."

His stare is piercing, in a terrible way. I only answer because I'm pretty sure he knows my name, and I'm pretty sure he saw Eric take hold of my hand.

"Everly."

"Everly Carlen, right? I thought I knew you. We talked to your dad. Guess I've got a thing or two to learn about how we get information out of the members here." Jeremy has nothing but all the audacity, because the look on Eric's face is nasty enough to kill. "Sorry, Sir. I'll meet you over there. Whenever you and uh, Everly are done."

Jeremy takes off before Eric can hiss a single word at him, and when I look up at Eric, he's staring. He watches Jeremy leave, and his eyes are narrowed.

"You don't like him, do you?"

"No, I do not. He's been worthless as a Leader, right up to this very moment." Eric finally blinks and turns back to me. "I'll call you once I know the cameras work. At the very least, try to stay where I can see you. You'll call me if you hear anything?"

"I will," I agree easily, but Eric is still hesitant. "What's wrong?"

"Do you always go to bed so early?"

"No," I shake my head, and his grimace lessens. "You walked me home the other night. That was after seven thirty."

"Mmmhmmm."

He's not convinced.

But he has no time to be.

Jason arrives next, his face as red as his hair, and he can barely gasp out his words. "Camp. Twenty people. Harrison is arresting them all, but…they weren't doing anything. I think one might have bit him. Rylan fell down the hill. You gotta hurry."

"Great." Eric barks, looking displeased. "Why is Harrison arresting everyone?"

"I don't know. He won't answer me. You aren't worried about Rylan? Hey, Everly."

"Hi Jason," I smile, and I step away from both of them. "I should let you go. I hope Rylan is okay. Good luck with all…that."

"Thanks." Jason answers brightly, but Eric scowls.

"Fine."

The two of them leave together. Jason resumes explaining whatever has happened to Eric, and Eric resumes looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. I hang by the very edge of the playground until they make it to the fork in the road, and then, Eric glances back.

His stare finds me, unwavering and warm, and he doesn't look away until Zander yells for me to come watch him walk the plank.

Zander survives.

He sits in my bathtub, covered in too many bubbles, playing with a set of tiny plastic figurines. They are old; someone had brought them back from the markets and given them to him, thinking he'd like a new toy. He'd brought all of them with him tonight, and insisted I sit with him. I'd already taken a shower, but I went along with his plan, because it gave me a chance to call Eric.

The soldiers had left sometime before dinner.

I knew this because Zander and Leon stayed at the playground all afternoon. They stayed until the sun turned cold, mittens were lost, and ultimately, Leon was thwarted in his attempt to steal Zander's ship. We walked home quietly, but only because they were both tired. We made it halfway to May's house before I saw a few of the soldiers still lingering, pointing up at the trees and arguing over whether or not the placement was right.

I didn't recognize any of them. The taller one argued the camera was fine, and the shorter one argued it wasn't. They compromised by calling someone, and snippily asking Kacie if she could see them or not. Her answer pleased the taller one, and he hung up triumphantly. They must have been given the confirmation they needed, because they immediately took off, announcing they'd make it back in time for dinner.

This situation didn't make me feel any better. The cameras they'd placed weren't entirely noticeable, but the blinking red lights were. They gave the trees eyes, and it felt invasive. I understood the purpose and intent of them, but I couldn't help but wonder who was watching. Was it Kacie? Was she nice? Was she stern and unfriendly, dressed in her own Dauntless uniform while she watched our faction like some strange intruder?

Would they even work?

What good was it if they could watch our faction, and maybe an attack or two, but were too far way to do anything? Eric had never mentioned how far Dauntless was from here, and since I'd never really left Amity, I had no clue how long it took to drive here. Our delivery drivers were gone all day. They occasionally mentioned the other factions, but mostly how well they were received.

Abnegation willing helped unload the trucks, Erudite barely let them in.

I wonder if Eric's dad ever saw the Amity trucks, then I wonder why I even cared.

It was unlikely I'd cross paths with him.

Now or ever.

"Get off my ship!"

Zander's commands echo into the bedroom, and I hurry to grab the phone. I return to the bathroom immediately, and I sink down onto the floor to lean against the tub.

"Stay there."

I'm not sure if Zander is talking to me or the toy he's playing with, so I nod. I press the screen of the phone to turn it on, and I click right to the phone list so I can pick Eric's name. I was proud of how quickly I'd figured this out, even if it was simple. I learned I could message him, though the texting was slower and his response was harder to read. I could call him, hoping he'd answer and talk, or I could try the video part again. I wanted to see him, but he didn't seem to like that feature very much.

I figure my best option is to call.

I press his name and the phone connects almost immediately.

"Hello?"

The voice is high pitched and squeaky and clearly not him.

"Oh, Everly is that you! Goodness, I've been awaiting your call all night!" It continues on and on, struggling not to laugh and failing. There's a crash in the background, then a howl of laughter. "I wanted to come take you away from your terrible, terrible faction, but my incredibly smart friends reminded me that kidnapping is frowned upon and plus my hair is looking terrible these days and it's just not a good look for me and…ow! Hey! I was just answering your phone while you went to get a drink! OW! Don't hit me! Do you want to marry her or not?"

There is a scuffle, a loud bang like a chair is tipping over, and then a crash and some muffled insults.

I catch the word dumbfuck, and I wait patiently until Eric wrangles the phone away from who I can only assume is Rylan.

"Everly."

Eric growls my name into the phone, and I have a hard time answering without laughing.

"Is that…was that Rylan?"

His grunt is confirmation that it was.

"Are you really planning on kidnapping me? Should I be ready for this?" I ask him teasingly, knowing that they'd been giving him shit about this for a while. The idea was impossible, especially given his status in Dauntless, but it was funny they kept bringing it up. "I'm giving Zander a bath. Do I have time to finish this or…?"

"How long did you talk to him for?" Eric asks, almost too seriously, and his voice darkens. "Rylan, I told you not to touch my phone. I said I'm expecting a call and-"

"Yeah, well I like Everly better than Ashley. So I answered for you!" Rylan's voice is small in the background, but clear enough that I can hear him. "Ashley is annoying. Everly isn't. Why is this such a hard choice for you?"

"It's not!" Eric roars the answer back, and there's another round of yelling. "I told you, I can't fucking steal a girl from Amity just because Christina needs another friend. She's not even…"

The rest of it is muffled, like he's realized I can hear him talking, and then he returns.

"She's too young. I told you that before. And I don't want a child."

I nearly drop the phone.

There it is.

My answer to every question I've ever wanted to know. I hear Rylan call him an asshole, and he must leave because Eric sighs.

"Everly? Are you still there?"

"Oh, um, I can let you go…" I offer, and the wave of nausea is so severe I'm sure I'm going to throw up. "I um…I'm sorry, I just wanted to…I was just trying to make a joke and-"

"Everly, I'll call you in ten minutes, okay. I'll…just answer when I call, alright?" Eric's voice has the slightest hint of stress mixed in with his annoyance, and I regret calling. "Everly?"

"No, it's okay. I just…I was going to say goodnight because it's later than seven thirty and-"

His phone disconnects.

I slump back against the bathtub, and reality smacks me right in the face again.

Ashley existed somewhere. She was real, and Rylan had met her. He knew her enough that he could compare us, and it was a comparison Eric didn't like. I'm embarrassed that I've even called him, so much that my eyes burn, and Zander pats my head with one wet, bubble covered hand.

"It's okay. I love you, Everly."

I nod, ignoring the fact that a young child just witnessed the humiliating phone call, and even worse, realized how stupid it was of me to call.

"Time to get out!" Zander changes the subject, and he pulls on my hair. "I'm tired. I want daddy."

"Okay," I answer, and I stand up. I set the phone on the bathroom sink, and I decide perhaps it's time I try to forget about Eric, no matter what.

I can't compete with a girl who isn't from Amity, one who Eric liked better, no matter how hard I tried.

Mable doesn't come back when she's supposed to.

I'm assigned to train in the greenhouse, and the relief I feel at this news is overwhelming. Out of everyone in the faction, my father would be most willing to make sure I stayed. But the first day is miserable, because Andy sticks close by my side, trying to help me.

He's adorably clueless. He fails to put together that the man leading the class is my father, and he is so close that more often than not, he bumps into me. The fifth time it happens, my father looks at me, and his stare goes back and forth between Andy and me and stays there. When he looks right at me, I shake my head no, and he smiles.

My dad ignores my scowl in return, and cheerfully places us in groups to learn about which vegetables grow in what climate.

It's a rough lesson.

I spend most of my time trying to duck behind Andy, because there, wandering around touching the leaves of things he's been asked not to, is Jeremy.

"Why is he here?"

I speak lowly, doing my best not to wake anyone up. The night is dark and cold, and it fits my mood. I've spent the past few days counting how many times I saw Jeremy, and his presence here was more often than not. Ironically, he was the only Dauntless soldier here. The rest seemed to have vanished, along with Eric.

He had called.

But I missed it.

I had left the phone in the bathroom while I helped Zander pick out his pajamas, a dark green pair that were as close to black as he owned, and I went to bed without going back to retrieve the phone. In the morning, I brushed my teeth while it lit up, and there were dozens of messages.

Some were from Eric.

Most were from Rylan.

Rylan's were frantic, determined to get a hold of me before Eric.

Eric's messages were simpler: He was sorry about Rylan and would I call him back.

I did.

Twice.

Each time, it rang endlessly, then went to his voicemail. I was shocked when he called me, and I answered even though it was nearly eleven.

"Who? Jeremy?" Eric sounds busy, but he always sounds like that. I can hear him typing again, the keys clacking in a frantic manner, and I would imagine he's very precise and focused on his job. It seemed endless, the pull of whatever he had to do to keep his status, and it bled into every moment of his life.

It also seemed like he was ignoring the conversation from a few nights ago. "It's a new assignment for him. He's trying to prove himself here, and he's been surveying the area for a while. He's there for two weeks."

"Two weeks?" My surprise is evident, because the clacking stops. "He's just a little…I think he's a little odd."

"He's definitely not normal, that's for sure." Eric answers disdainfully, and he sighs. "Why are you up so late?"

"I don't know. I had a really awful day during initiation, and I guess I'm just sitting here, reliving it." I'm fully aware how stupid this sounds, but I don't see any point in lying. "I know this probably is lame compared to what you do every day, but…I have to learn how to grow carrots. Try not to be too jealous."

"I've been in Erudite for three days straight. I think I'd rather learn to grow carrots." Eric's response makes me laugh, because he's serious as ever. "Are you done with your agriculture lessons for the day? Can you go outside?"

"Why?" I sit up, and he hesitates in his answer. "What's outside? Jeremy?"

"I have to drop something off in Erudite. I thought maybe you'd like to get out of Amity for a minute. It won't take long."

"Are you here?" I shove the covers off me, and I look around frantically. The nightgown I have on is passable for a dress, if he didn't look too closely, but I have no shoes. I grab a sweater, a pair of ballet flats that are my favorites, and I wait for his answer. He's asked me to go along with him with a suspicious casualness that I didn't quite believe, but his response makes me pause.

"Yes."

This time, the truck is cold.

It's large and rambling, a different one than I'd been in before. It has a laptop in it, and a keypad attached to the dashboard. He must have been working while he was driving, but he'd parked at the edge of Amity, and waited for me to show up.

I should have stayed home.

The logical part of my mind screamed that I was a moron. It pointed out that Eric, still dressed in his uniform at such a late hour and asking me to leave my faction, is dangerous. When his hands found my waist to help me climb up into the truck, it pointed out how strong he is. When he waited to make sure I was sitting before he shut the door, it reminded me how calculated he is.

When he told me to move closer, because the heat was broken after Jason had spilled his coffee on the dashboard not once, not even twice, but three times, my brain pointed out that I should be afraid of him. That his world was one of violence and endless paperwork and days which stretched long into the nights, and mine was not.

But when I did scoot closer, finding the courage to pull my feet up and press myself against his side, my brain gleefully pointed out this felt right.

"We're almost there. Have you ever been to Erudite?" Eric turns the steering wheel slightly. The truck veers around a curve lit up only by the headlights, and it rumbles as the incline begins. It's older than the one he'd driven before, and larger.

"I rarely get to leave Amity." I do my best to appear like this wasn't as uncool as it sounded. "I'm just really busy there."

"Oh, that's why? No other reasons?" Eric glances at me out of the corner of his eye, amused as ever. "Come here. You'll be able to see the border in a few minutes."

He moves his arm so I can move over, and once I'm really against his side, his uniform scratching my cheek and his body warm even through the jacket, he rests it behind me. His fingers touch the back of my hair, then as the road turns again, his fingers slip into my hair. They graze my neck, then stay there while he drives.

"Do you come here often?"

I let my head rest against him, because as exciting as this is, it's nearly midnight. It had taken me a minute to sneak out, creeping down the stairs and out the front door hoping no one noticed, and a good ten minutes to get to the main part of Amity. I was a little spooked while I walked along the path, and not even the blinking cameras were reassuring. I made it to the Dome quickly, and just past there, Eric waited.

"I try not to. But my job as a Leader brings me here more than I'd like." He swallows thickly, and his next words sound annoyed. "A week ago, a shipment of their serums went missing. There are very few cameras here, because Erudite values their privacy. I have no leads to go on, but their assumption is a disgruntled employee, followed by the factionless. Maybe both."

"Sounds…thrilling. Would the factionless want the serum?" I try to connect all this together, but my mind is distracted. Eric is warm and solid, and he smells like anything but the woods and fires. "What would they do with it?"

"Who the fuck knows," Eric mutters, and he slows down when Erudite slowly blossoms before my very eyes.

The sight is as impressive as one would expect.

Even in the dark, the buildings are beautiful. Sharp and extravagantly designed, with a hint of showmanship. They gleam in the warm lighting of their streetlights, reflecting a lovely glow as Eric drives down the main street. There are businesses here, more than I can keep track of, each one uniform but not. They range from exquisite looking –an expensive clothing store with nothing but dark blue jackets and dresses –to the more normal but just as elegant coffee shop, hidden behind intricately designed landscaping.

It was a lot to look at. The main road is clean and empty; there is no dirt, no lingering members of Erudite strolling around just to look at the moon or anyone really. There are glossy signs above each space, boasting retail or restaurants, and it's clear Erudite does think highly of itself.

"I'm just going to park and give this to the security guard." Eric slows down to turn onto a different street, and it must be important. This building is glass, and it spans a large area. It rises high into the night, and outside, is a lone soldier looking bored. "Will you hand me that file?"

"Sure," I move away from him to grasp it, and he parks just a few feet away from the building. A few of the pages peek out from the folder, jarred by the movement of the truck. It's a list of names, some highlighted, and some not, but nothing I'd know what to do with. I hold onto it until he's ready, and my fingers touch his for a moment. "I'll wait here."

"Good. Eduardo isn't into small talk anyway." Eric raises his eyebrow at me, and he takes the file. "I'll be right back."

He shuts the door with a bang, and strides over to the guard. Eduardo looks a little more alive now that Eric is here, and he perks up when Eric instructs him to take the papers. I observe him carefully, the back of his hair freshly cut back down to nothing, the loosened jacket, and his precise posture. He only talks for another second, then turns back to catch me staring.

He smirks, and half salutes the guard before he returns to the truck.

"I have one more stop to make."

He slicky informs me of this while he climbs in, and he waits to see if this is alright. He doesn't need my approval in any way, but I have the feeling if I told him no, he'd take me back home. When I do nod, having no real desire to return to Amity so soon, his smile is pleased as ever.

The hot chocolate is warm.

I sit on the outdoor patio of what has to be the most upscale place I've ever been, clutching the drink in my hands. We'd walked inside the coffee shop together, and I struggled with a rush of nerves that I'd appear undressed.

But in the twinkle lights of the outside, and the glow from the lamps on each table, my outfit is fine. The skirt of the nightgown passes for a dress, and the oversized sweater is pretty enough that it could have been purchased here. I knew my mother had made it, but no one else did.

To my surprise, the coffee shop is busy.

I had assumed everyone in Erudite was asleep, but Eric told me this coffee shop was popular with the hospital workers. He pointed behind us, explaining the hospital was open all day and all night, and any medical emergency, serum malfunction, or necessary appointment was held there. Which explained why everyone around us looked professional despite the late hour. They varied between bleary eyed exhaustion and blinding optimism as they prepared to head into work. Even as the night spans on, the tables around us are full, and Eric and I sit on a loveseat which had to cost more than anything I'd ever sat on, hidden out of the way but with a great vantage point.

It was the only seat left, and it forced us close together.

Eric didn't seem to mind.

He sat with his legs against mine, his arm behind me to keep me close, and every so often, he'd tell me who was here.

The oldest guy, drinking shots of rich espresso was an emergency room surgeon. Eric had seen him once, when he broke his arm. The woman next to him is his assistant. She mimics him, drinking her espresso at the same time. Their posture hints that they'll be called back at a moment's notice, and they liked this.

At the table next to them, is a trauma surgeon. Eric explained how she worked with patients from every faction, and in turn, was on the board to oversee the serums and how they could be used in surgery.

A few tables away from her, is a woman with brown hair, watching us intently.

At first, I thought maybe she would stand up and come tell me I didn't belong here. Instead, she kept squinting, occasionally toying with her phone, and ultimately, returned to whatever she was working on. She picks up her phone for the dozenth time, and I hear her quietly ask if someone is in his office.

"I can't kidnap you."

Eric's words break my stare at the brunette lady, and I have to say, he looks strangely disappointed at what he's saying. "I know you heard Rylan suggesting that for the millionth time, but it would raise a few questions that I don't have answers for right now. And he was drunk. Drunker than he should be for someone who had to work the next day."

"I didn't think you really could," I answer him wistfully, and it's hard to miss the wavering in my tone. The conversation still stung, because I'd heard my name compared to Ashley's, and I didn't like it. "I don't even know how you could pull it off."

"Oh, I could pull it off," Eric scoffs, and I turn to look at him. I pull my feet up, and he shifts to look at me. "I could kidnap you right now. No one here knows who you are. I got you out of Amity."

"But?"

Eric sets his drink down on the low table before us. He doesn't move his stare from me, but he shrugs. "Eventually, someone would notice you were gone. Your mom. Your dad. Your friends. Forrest. The woman with all the…missing chickens."

"Carole?" I stare back in horror. "She wouldn't care if I went missing. It could be a great cover for her actually. Wait, did she put you up to this? Are you related to her?"

"Far from it."

He scoots closer, only to take my hand in his. The act is casual, almost practiced, like he routinely held my hand.

"Rylan wants to know if you're ever going to text him back. He said he's sent several messages. You're crushing his ego by ignoring him."

"I mean, how do I know it's even Rylan texting me and not you pretending to be Rylan?" I try to make a joke about Rylan answering his phone, but Eric doesn't find it hilarious. He drops his head down, and I remember the very first time he kissed me, and how it felt like something meant for just him and I. How he'd pushed me back against his truck, after weeks of seeing him, and slowly slipping closer and closer.

"I have to go to Erudite all next week. I won't see you until after that, but we're sending some soldiers in to guard the perimeter of Amity. They'll keep an eye on you. It's one of their orders. Do you promise me, if for any reason you think you're in danger, that you won't wait to contact one of us? I promise someone will get a hold of me. Jason and Rylan both agreed to be on alert because we think we're close to finding out where they are but I just need…"

He pauses, and his nose touches mine.

He's somehow warm, his hand moves to grasp hold of my face, and before he can stop himself, his lips graze mine. There's a fleeting moment of uncertainty, maybe because we're in Erudite, at a coffee shop where someone might recognize him, but it's gone when my hands touch his cheeks. I slide them into his hair, moving closer to him, and his hum of approval is low and warm when I kiss him back.

The feeling of his lips against mine is now familiar. I've kissed him a few times, always in secret, always desperate to get close, and being here makes this feel even more forbidden. He's rougher as he grows impatient, biting at my lips until they part, and his own hands don't stay still. They move to touch whatever they can, pulling my hair, twisting around the longest pieces, urging me against him.

Ashley is long forgotten, because he's here with me, not her, and his next words confirm just that.

"I just need a few more weeks."


	14. The Invitation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Bamberlee for editing! Thanks to everyone reading along!

The road is endless.

It turns and snakes out of Erudite, lit up only by the lights on the truck. The sky is especially black tonight, or really, this morning. Our drive back is quiet, because his promise of a few weeks is all I can think about. I try to figure out what he meant, while I sit close to him, shivering until I am right against his side.

"Come here. Jason broke the heater," he reminds me, and he's only content once I move right next to him. He does his best to pretend he's not pulling me closer, then leans back and focuses on the road.

This is the first time I've truly seen him relaxed, or as relaxed as Eric can be. He drives with the slightest of smirks, and his arm is slung around the back of the seat behind me, slowly sliding down to my shoulders. He doesn't drive as fast as he did before, and instead of driving me back the way he came, he takes an entirely different route home. I watch the road in front of us, having no clear idea where we are, but it's clear Eric knows where he's going.

"Can I ask you something now?" I lean further into him, one of my fingers touching the side of his pants as I subconsciously stake my own claim.

It was impossible to ignore what was going on between us. It was a huge deal that he took me along with him to Erudite, and an even bigger deal he'd thought to ask me. Dauntless had to be full of members who'd do anything to get close to him, not to mention Ashley. After tonight, I felt like maybe I stood a chance with him. Sure, he was hard to read, and he wasn't the most forthcoming with what his true feelings were, but I was okay with that. I had slight whiplash from his mood swings, but I got the feeling I wasn't to blame.

It was him, struggling with whatever conflicting emotions he had about how to handle this.

"Depends on the question," Eric answers, and he glances down at me. "Is it about my parents? Or about Rylan falling down the hill? I can answer that one. Arlene thinks he broke his leg, but he thinks otherwise."

"It's not, but is he alright? He broke his leg? How?" I can't help but worry at the thought, because Jason had shown up gasping all sorts of updates at Eric, including that Rylan had fallen. I'd thought for sure he was joking, but I guess not. "Did he really break his leg?"

"No, just his pride. But he'll live. Hopefully." Eric turns the steering wheel, and I notice we're nearing a thick wall of forest. "What's your question?"

"Who's…will you tell me who Ashley is?"

I ask this very carefully.

I keep close against him, and I focus on his hands on the steering wheel. They tighten and tense, gripping the steering wheel tighter than before. His lack of answer stretches on for a long time, and when I look up at him, he's chewing his cheek and his head is tilted. His posture hasn't changed yet, but the aversion is there.

"Why?"

"Because Rylan said-"

"He was drunk. He didn't know what he was saying," Eric interrupts, and he inhales slowly. "I know you heard that whole conversation and you shouldn't have. Look, I left my phone with them and I didn't know they'd answer it. He and Jason are dead set on the idea that you should have picked Dauntless and you could have come for initiation and I'd train you and you'd fit right in with them, like some weird alternate universe."

Oh.

I sort of like the idea, but it brings up a whole slew of other questions.

"Okay, but is Ashley in that universe?" I dare to look at him, and he glares at me.

It's not incredibly harsh, and I struggle not to smile.

"Can you at least tell me if she's pretty?"

"No," Eric snaps, and this conversation takes a tense turn. "You don't need to know anything about her. It won't benefit you in any way. Neither will trying to make sense of whatever Rylan said. Contrary to what he believes, kidnapping members of other factions is frowned upon, especially by a Leader. If you want to start a war, that would be one way to do it."

"Is Ashley tall?" I shift slightly, and this way, I can see him better. The truck is dark, but I can see him just fine. "Is she taller than me?"

"Most people are taller than you," Eric's answer isn't what I want to hear, and he can tell. "Fine. She's Jeanine's assistant. She works in Erudite. And yes, she's taller than you." He grits all this out, and my nod seems to encourage him to go on. "She's not anyone to me. I've known her for a long time, but things are different now and she doesn't like that."

"Did you two date?"

Part of me wants to slap myself. For starters, I sound like a clingy girlfriend trying desperately to yank secrets out of a guy who clearly doesn't want to give them. They really aren't my business. What he did with Ashley before me isn't my concern, but Rylan had said her name, and he made it sound like there was a struggle between her and me.

Which I did not like one bit.

It was fine if he didn't want anything with me, but then this needed to stop.

"Everly…"

"I just don't want to be someone's second choice. Landon already told me the only reason anyone would marry me is because I'm pretty. If that's what this is…then maybe it should stop. Maybe I help you find Evelyn and that's it. You'll go back to Dauntless and I'll…marry the guy in the greenhouse who keeps crashing into me."

I stare at the dashboard until it blurs, but my words are truthful. If this is what is going on –him showing up to make me think I was special just so I could lead him to the factionless army –then I needed to end it. I didn't want to be just another pawn in some game, and I certainly didn't want to feel foolish if he is with her.

He also doesn't like this.

He practically unhinges his jaw to answer, and the words are mean.

"We fucked. That's it. She thought it was more, and it wasn't. I see her routinely, since she works on some of the same projects that I do, and she's aware that nothing can come of it." Eric's expression is so tense it looks like it's painful. "Nothing will ever happen. I've been very clear about that."

"Because she lives in Erudite?"

"No, because she's a shitty person!" Eric barks. "Look, I don't have time for her in my life. I don't even have time for this and I should have just dropped off the files and gone home. But I thought maybe you'd like to go somewhere new. Maybe you'd manage to stay up past seven and I wanted…I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn't going to let you die. And Rylan likes you because you're nice to him. You gave him a nickname. He felt important because of that, and he feels like he can trust you. He's got it stuck in his head that I can just…take you with me and bring you back and I fucking can't. So when Ashley does call, which is often, he loses his shit. There you go. Happy?"

He scowls at the road ahead of us, but I have to admit, this is everything I wanted to know.

Even if he'd confessed it in a fit of rage.

"Actually, yes." I sit up straighter, and his scowl intensifies. "I just wanted to know who she was. I felt really stupid after that phone call."

"Don't," Eric shakes his head. "You have enough going on. The last thing you need to add to that is Ashley. Odds are, you'll never cross paths. She rarely leaves Erudite nor does she have any reason to."

"Okay," I look up at him with a smile, and he looks at me. It's fleeting, since the road veers sharply to the left, but he looks less irritable. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. No more questions, Amity. You've learned enough."

"What if I wait a few weeks?" I tempt fate by trying to bargain with him, and he side eyes me in response. "Two weeks?"

"Three weeks."

"One week. Because you said you'll be gone all week and then back in two weeks, but I could call and ask a few more-"

"That's it. No more questions for a month. Maybe two." Eric shrugs dismissively, and I shake my head.

"That's not fair! That's forever," I protest, but his answer is a smirk.

"Too bad. There's no more time anyway, because we're almost to Amity. We're twenty minutes out." Eric points in the distance, and I try not to look too disappointed. "I have to drop you off and head out. I should have been back hours ago. I have a meeting at six."

"That's alright. I can walk home from the Dome," I answer, but really, I was hoping he'd walk with me. The faction would no doubt be incredibly dark, and even if it was a quick walk to the house, I didn't want to chance Colton lurking in the shadows.

"I'm not letting you go by yourself. You somehow attract danger without even trying," Eric mutters, and he's right.

I wasn't exactly staying very safe these days. I'd left Amity to go to another faction with him, and not a soul knew about it.

Which is why it suddenly catches up to me. Everything. The exhaustion of trying to pass initiation, the exhaustion of wondering if Landon was counting down the minutes until he could force my hand into marriage, the exhaustion of staying up and talking to Eric, all slams into me at once. I give in to the feeling, giving myself the luxury of closing my eyes, and I sigh.

Oddly enough, out of all my nights, this one had been the best so far.

"Four days. Please." I mumble the words into the darkness, or at least I think I do.

"Are you asleep?"

Eric's words are full of mockery, but they float over me. I don't answer him, because it's too nice with my head against his chest, a rumbling truck, and his arm around my shoulder. His fingers graze my arm, and every so often, I can feel him tense them, trailing up and down my arm for a second.

He leaves them there, tracing some pattern I can't make out, and the truck turns again.

"I was right. You do have narcolepsy."

He's smugly arrogant in this declaration, but not too far off.

My eyes stay shut, and the entire evening slips away from me..

His goodbye is slow.

I woke up when we were back in Amity, and the clock on the truck read 3:33 am. I was a little surprised to see it was so late, but when I asked, Eric shrugged it off. I had the sneaking suspicion we'd gotten back sooner, and he had stayed here to let me sleep. I couldn't figure out why. It couldn't be comfortable or exciting, but his computer screen was active, lit up to reveal some numbers and a list of rankings from the Dauntless initiation, and I figured he'd probably been working. He turned it off when I lifted my head away from his chest, but I caught Jake's name behind Karl's, and they were both high up there.

I was jealous. I wondered what it would have felt like to be highly ranked, and maybe Rylan was right, maybe I could have picked Dauntless.

Or maybe I was delirious.

It took me a second to realize I had to get out of the truck, and another second to realize Eric had walked around the truck and was waiting to help me climb down. His hands stayed on my waist until my feet reached the ground, then he moved away, only to grasp my hand and point to the pathway.

I was right.

It was pitch black.

Even the cameras in the trees were asleep. The red lights were off, and the only blinking came from me, stumbling over a rock and nearly breaking my ankle. Eric and I walked all the way to my house, all the way to the porch steps, and only there did he stop.

"Thank you for tonight," I stand on the first step, and he looks down at my hand in his. His is much larger, he only slides his fingers away to compare mine to his. Much like on the playground, he's analyzing something, and he only looks up when I keep talking. "I liked Erudite. I liked the coffee shop, too and…I liked…"

His eyes search mine. His eyelashes are long, and he's more handsome than ever right now. It doesn't hurt that he's staring at me, and his lips part before I can say I liked our talk. "I'll be back in two weeks. I have to figure some things out, but I will stay in contact and I will make sure no one hurts you."

"Are you talking about Colton?" I don't like when he pulls his hand away, and his smile is tight and less smirky than before. The tension is back, creeping up and taking over as he nods. "Okay, so two weeks. Then I can ask you my questions."

His grey eyes lock on mine, light and tired. In the distance, there's the hoot of an owl, the quack of a duck, and a scurrying noise as something else runs up a tree. The members of Amity might be asleep, but the creatures of the night are wide awake. I pull my sweater tighter, waiting for him to tell me no, that it's enough questions, and instead he shakes his head.

"Goodnight, Everly."

He says my name, my real name, and it sounds different than he's ever said it before. It sounds like a secret between us, soft and strong at the same time, low enough that only I can hear it. He leans in to kiss me goodbye, and I hate the way it feels.

It's slow and incredibly chaste, but very telling.

It feels like goodbye.

A real goodbye.

He breaks away with all the hesitation in the world. Eric touches my face, his thumb sliding over my lip for just a moment, and only then does he leave.

I oversleep.

I wake up to bright sunlight pouring into my bedroom, and my mother attempting to fix the problem. She undoes my curtains to close them, and she mumbles something about it being nearly eleven but it's okay since I don't feel good.

I groan, shoving my head back into the pillow and refusing to admit that I'm not actually sick, but was out with Eric. I screw my eyes shut, knowing I'll have to make this day up but not caring, and the next time I open them, it's nearly two in the afternoon. Zander is sound asleep beside me, holding onto a fake toy gun.

I pick it up slowly, having never once seen such a violent object here, toy or not. I turn it over in my hands, not sure where he would have gotten it, and I almost miss the name scratched into the bottom.

There, in tiny, hand carved letters, is the name _Harrison._

She is tall.

She is tall and much thinner in person, so pretty that it hurts to look at her. In Zander's books, she would be the princess he declared I wasn't. Her hair is blonder than Eric's, so blonde it's almost not real. She has it curled in soft even waves that accentuate her high cheekbones, and it falls to her shoulders like she's ordered it to. Her blue dress is fitted; it's a royal blue that is even more regal looking against the wooden fence she's perched by, and it ends above her knees.

Her shoes are the best part.

They are sky high. Black, so black they almost dare to hint that they could have some blue mixed in, and sharp. They are so tall that they appear impossible to walk in, but she balances in them carefully. She's probably very graceful in her normal life, but here, on a dirty messy path in Amity, she's not. She takes a slow step, trying to avoid the mud and the rocks, and her sudden gracelessness leaves her looking like a baby deer attempting to walk for the first time.

I get a tiny speck of satisfaction when she retreats instantly, unwilling to muddy her shoes.

"Who is that moron? Does she know the ground is wet? She should have worn fishing boots. Even Zander knows better than to try and walk in the puddles right now."

Forrest elbows me, and the two of us watch her wrinkle her nose as a squirrel runs past her. It skims along the fence post, right over her hand, and she squeaks as it zips away. She closes her eyes and mumbles something, and a few feet ahead of her, is Jeanine.

I'm sure they were both delighted to be in Amity. It had rained yesterday, and while better than snow, it left the faction a soggy mess. Even I had rain boots on, because the pathways were a muddy disaster, and I didn't want to ruin my shoes.

But Jeanine and her group don't know this. She's got a few others with her, all who stick close by, looking visibly annoyed by nature.

"Ashley, hurry up please. We don't have all day. Johanna is gracious enough to have tea ready and we don't want to keep her waiting. The sooner we have our meeting, the sooner we can leave."

Jeanine calls back to her with pure annoyance, assuming no one is around to hear her. Her words are haughty and horrified, because she's also a little too elegant to be here. To her credit, Jeanine walks with a little more ease. Her arrival is completely unexpected and about as welcome as when Eric shows up. The faction slowly spread away from her, doing their best not to draw her attention, and only the unlucky ones were left to welcome her. Her shoes are high, but not as high as Ashley's, and she manages to walk without looking like she's about to fall down.

"I am hurrying. It's filthy here," Ashley hisses, and her gaze swings wildly. She looks around her like she'd rather be anywhere but in the middle of Amity and her stare is total disbelief. She makes a face at the barn beside her, and the goats who've wandered over to see her, wrongly thinking she's here to feed them. She struggles to move away from the fence, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the wood as she tries to keep her balance, and one nudges her. "Get away from me, you asshole."

"It's a goat, ma'am. He likes your dress," Forrest calls out, and I can't help but burst out laughing.

It's my first mistake.

Ashley's attention promptly turns to me. Her eyes widen slightly and her mouth falls open at someone daring to speak to her, but she recovers quickly. She looks down her nose at us, snooty and perfectly polished, and she smiles disdainfully. "I'm aware it's a goat. Now get it away from me."

"You really should move away from the fence. If you don't, he's going to eat your skirt. That one is Eugene. He's very friendly and apparently, very hungry." Forrest keeps talking, and I use my time to study her.

Even worse, I try to imagine her with Eric.

She's close to his height, and just as sharp, but the similarities end there. She has a nasty look to her, like the kind of mean girl who never outgrew being mean, and instead was rewarded for it. She's not strong looking. She certainly couldn't move any hay bales nor could she chase down rogue farm animals.

She's also staring at me with a vengeance, especially when Forrest says my name.

"You ready to go, Everly? I told Willow you'd come by for breakfast." He grins at me, pleased that Ashley is still unable to move. Her choices are to go through the mud puddle, or risk Eugene eating her skirt right off, and she hasn't picked one yet.

"Everly."

I look up when she says my name, and when we lock eyes, I smile sweetly.

I wonder if she remembers me.

We'd talked on the phone once, or I'd talked and she'd screeched at me. Judging from the look on her face she does because she lets go of the fence and takes a single step closer. Her heel sinks into the soft wet dirt, and I get a second flash of satisfaction that it'll dry before she can clean it off.

"You're Everly?"

She knows me. I don't quite feel the expected wave of terror that I should, not even when she repeats my name, and her expression becomes murderous, because she's sort of stuck. I could easily stroll through the mud if I wanted to, but it's obvious she can't, and she knows it.

For once in my life, I have the upper hand.

Ashley doesn't like this fact, nor does she like me. Her gaze goes from my face, to my dress, to my shoes, and she looks torn between loathing the mere sight of me, and looking visibly upset.

Unfortunately for her, I look nice today.

Even in the rain boots.

I wasn't normally arrogant in thinking I was pretty, but I felt good. A few days ago, Eric had taken me to Erudite. Though our goodbye felt oddly ominous, he promised he'd be back in a few weeks. He'd texted me last night: a picture of Rylan holding up a beer and then one of Rylan trying to take a photo of the cast on his leg, and finally the two of them, sitting beneath a giant animal skull. They were both dressed in black t-shirts, and while Rylan was smiling, Eric was not.

I saved the picture, an option I didn't know I had until I pressed on the photo for so long it prompted me to save it, and I told them goodnight.

I liked the picture, though it was hardly the romantic message of anyone's dreams. It did solidify a few things for me. One, he was still thinking of me. He wasn't going back on his words, and despite being in a different faction, he was checking in. Two, he wasn't entirely against Rylan's theory that he and I should be together. Even though he'd been mad at him, they had a bond unbroken by Rylan's desire for him to be married, and they were clearly fine now.

All of this left me in a better mood.

I washed my hair, brushed it out until it was tangle free, and picked out a really pretty dress. It was a daring choice –yellow, not pink –and it was fitted. It wasn't exceptionally Amity looking, or at least it wasn't oversized. I pinned my hair back on one side with a flower pin that Holly had made for me last year, grabbed a shiny black pair of boots after my mother warned me it had rained, and I had to admit that for once, I felt pretty. I felt happy and bubbly, sort of drunk on my own reality, and nothing could ruin this.

I was a little nervous that Eric really would show up in two weeks to whisk me away, but I also found the idea incredibly appealing. I liked the danger behind it, I liked knowing that there was a chance I wouldn't accidentally step in pig poop on my walk to the Dome, and there was a chance he and I could spend more evenings together. Maybe he'd take me back to the coffee shop. Maybe he'd take me to another faction, one bigger and better than Erudite, or maybe Dauntless had a coffee shop.

Maybe I was just in love with the idea that someday, after things had settled down, Eric would fall in love with me. I wasn't naïve enough to think it would happen soon, or ever. It took every effort to get him to even tell me things about him, but there was a chance that someday, those questions would make him smile, and he wouldn't think twice about answering them.

Or I was really dumb and we'd wind up never seeing each other ever again.

"You cannot be fucking serious. Are you really Everly?"

Ashley's words slice through the air as she stumbles. She regains her balance immediately, but it's wobbly at best. She steps gingerly toward me, and it's clear her mission of meeting me is more important than her shoes.

Behind her, Eugene lets out a bleat of disappointment.

"Be careful. You might slip!" I warn her politely, secretly enjoying the way she looks like she's hating life. "But yes, I am Everly. Are you lost?"

"No," she snaps, and she somehow makes it across the path. The black shoes are undoubtedly ruined. They are caked with mud, and it ruins her perfect image. She stops a few feet away from Forrest and I, and her stare is pressing. "You're seriously Everly? You're the girl he took to Erudite?"

Oh shit.

I wasn't expecting that.

I stare up at Ashley's face, and it's tight with rage.

"I'm sorry?"

"Wait, who took Everly to Erudite? Are you sure you're alright?" Forrest eyes her like she's a foreign species, and he tries not to look at me. "Aren't you supposed to be with your tour group?"

She throws him a withering stare.

"No, I want to meet the girl that Eric is so hooked on. He's made it abundantly clear he's hell bent on destroying his own life by fucking around with some farm girl and I'm pretty sure I just found her." Ashley is so mad I can feel the rage vibrating off of her. "I know it's you. My father saw you. He told me Eric was kissing some girl, right in front of him, in the middle of the night, in Erudite. He said she wasn't from Erudite, her outfit was hideous and he swore Eric said the name Everly."

"Hideous?" I pretend to be insulted, because Eric hadn't minded my nightgown. "Doesn't sound familiar."

"Yeah, sounds fake, but okay," Forrest rolls his eyes, and he takes a step away. "Everly, are you coming to breakfast? I should get back to Willow."

"Thank you, but I have a super busy day. I'm leaving with Sophia and Courtney in a little bit," I answer politely, and in front of us, Ashley fumes at being ignored. "I'll come by tonight, though. I want to see Willow."

Forrest is instantly thrilled, and I don't have the heart to tell him I wanted to ask her about Tobias. I had a theory about him I wanted her opinion on, but I also wanted to check on her. "She'll love that. I'll see you later. Uh, you over there, try not to break an ankle. The path slopes when you get close to the pig pens. One wrong step and you'll be face first in uh, lots of stuff."

He waves like she's going to thank him, but she doesn't. She sneers, wrinkling her nose up and looking absolutely disgusted. He's unfazed, though. Forrest grins, winks at me, and heads toward his house. I stand in the same spot, unwilling to walk away from watching Ashley slowly lose it. She's staring so intently I can feel it on my skin, and her eyes are dark.

"Where is he?"

"Who?" I blink in confusion, and my confusion is real. "Forrest? He's going home to his wife. Do you want me to have him come back?"

"I meant Eric, you moron. You can't fool me. Eric might think you're some innocent little twerp from Amity, but I know your type. Let me be perfectly clear with you. Whatever you think is going on won't last. It's not real. I know him. I know the real Eric, not the one who's interested in you. Now tell me where he is." Ashley dares to inch closer, and in the distance, Jeanine calls out her name.

"I think Jeanine is waiting for you," I suggest, and I point to where Jeanine has stopped. Johanna must have realized she is here, because she's standing with her, and the two of them are both pretending this is a pleasant visit. "Do you want me to walk you over to her?"

If she could explode, I think Ashley might.

At the very least, her head might pop off.

"Listen here, Everly. I'll be perfectly clear with you. I don't give a shit who he fucks when he's not with me, but only that he comes back to me. I'm tired of you as a distraction. So, you tell me where he is, and I can be on my way out of your shithole of a faction."

She snarls the words at me, and I can tell she's used to getting her way.

I figure I might as well help her out.

"You know what, fine. I'll tell you where he is. Do you see that house over there? Down the road, like six houses in? With the blue roof?" I gesture for her to look, and her hair barely moves when she turns her head. "Do you see it? He's in there. It's where I normally meet him. It's…where everything exciting happens."

Ashley turns back to me, and her jaw goes slack.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I mean, you asked. I'm answering you. You obviously know him better." I point out, and she doesn't bother to smile. She throws me a dirty glare and turns on her heel. It sticks, stuck in the damp ground and she has to work to yank it out. This throws off her balance, and I take great joy in the way she hobbles back onto the main path and cocks her head to the side.

She's interesting to watch.

She fixes her dress, smoothing it out and pulling it back in place, then her hair. The gesture is useless given that it still looks perfect, but it must boost her confidence. She takes off, striding unevenly on the slippery, dirt road, past the other houses, and she pauses in sheer horror at the sight of the chicken coop.

Determined to find Eric, she ignores Jeanine yelling her name again, and heads right into Carole's house.

I smile when I hear her shriek, and I don't feel bad about it for one second.

"If you move again, I'm going to wind up stabbing you, and I don't want to hurt you."

My mother mutters her words through a mouthful of pins. She holds the fabric in place, pulling a section tighter before she pins it. She moves away to stare at it critically, then smiles widely.

"Okay, I think that's better. You're shorter than I remember." She pauses when I glare at her, but she's undeterred. "I just meant your sisters are a little taller. The last time I made you a dress, I swore you were all the same height. Gladys made some of the newer ones you have. I was going to make you one for Forrest's wedding but I didn't have time."

"I'm not that short. Am I?"

I stand up on my toes, trying to emulate how tall I estimated Ashley to be. In the photo, she looked tall, and in person, she is even taller. The high heels only elongated her even more. Behind Eric, she was still a little shorter than him, but not by much.

I balance for only a second before the effort becomes annoying.

"Compared to who?" My mom rises up, and she examines her work. "I think you're fine. If you want to wear taller shoes, then I'll make the dress longer. But I think it works the way it is. Plus, you'll have to walk into the dinner. I don't want you to trip over the length."

"That's true. I didn't think of that." I stare at myself in the mirror of her bedroom, and I can't help but wonder if the dress is formal enough. "Do you think…. will I fit in?"

"At the dinner? I'm sure you will. Even if you don't, you and Sophia will have a wonderful time. Johanna was thrilled that you both volunteered to go, and she said she's thinking of sending Jerry in her place. He'll make sure you have fun."

I stare at her through the mirror, doing my best not to look too excited.

A day ago, Johanna had shown up while I was trying to figure out the root system for cold weather plants. Turns out, there were tons of plants which could thrive in cold temperatures. Some were heartier than others, and some were fragile enough that they didn't stand a chance without intervention. I was supposed to be labeling a diagram, but my attention was gone every time Andy bumped into me and mumbled an apology that was not at all apologetic.

His advances were sweet.

He was kind and sort of awkward and very, very nice, but he was no Eric.

I couldn't help but compare everyone to him, because Eric was all I could think about.

A few days prior, Eric had asked me to go to Erudite with him. The act was both small enough that it could be nothing –a guy who wanted company while he drove to drop off a file—or huge. Eric inviting me anywhere was enough to make my heart race, and the fact that we'd gone to some coffee shop that he clearly had a reason for going to, was more than enough to show me that he actually liked me.

Him kissing me after mumbling he needed a few weeks made my head spin.

I was carefully cataloguing every time he blurted something out to me and trying to figure out a pattern. I knew getting information out of him was nearly impossible, but somehow, I could. These moments were isolated, oh so careful, and always when he felt like we were away from everyone else.

The first one, him blurting out that he missed me, or at least missed sneaking over to come see me, was in his truck. Cleverly tucked away from the main part of Amity, and inside the warm cabin where absolutely no one else could see us, this confession arose out of nowhere.

The second one, calling to tease me about going to bed early, was while we were both in our respective bedrooms. He was in Dauntless, I was in Amity, but for that second, we were together. He was a little more relaxed because, again, it was just us. There was no one else listening, no one around, and no way for anyone to overhear him.

The third and most important time, was in Erudite. Sure, him showing up to save me from Colton was a feat all in itself. He'd held my hand, a rare move considering we were in a public place but it was dark and it wasn't like anyone could see him, but it felt…like he might have thought he had to. I'd voiced my concerns to him about Colton, and he'd shown up right as I proved what I was saying. Still, his palm against mine felt downright illegal, even though he'd dropped my hand the second we saw LeRoy, and I'd wished he'd held onto it longer.

So, I decided the third and most important moment, wasn't him scoffing that he could kidnap me if he really wanted to, or revealing he'd thought about how he would do it –logically and precisely—, but the slip up that he needed a few weeks. I wouldn't imagine he meant to say it. He used his words sparingly; he doled out information like he was handing over his internal organs. He told me a few minor things about his life, things that one would assume were common knowledge, but ultimately, the best thing I'd learned, was that he wanted me.

There was the question of how he wanted me, or why.

When Rylan answered his phone, Eric had outright announced he wasn't taking me anywhere. My age was brought up, along with the announcement that he didn't want a child. If I had to make a guess, I'd say Rylan was hinting Eric would come take me away from Amity, move me to Dauntless, and once there, he and I could have a family together. That made me a little nervous. It wasn't that I never wanted to have children, but Eric was right. I was young enough that the idea wasn't appealing. If I did somehow wind up with him in any way, a baby was the last thing I wanted, especially considering I spent most of my free time with a small child.

Maybe I should have been drinking the tea.

Either way, all of this went through my head when Johanna swooped in to cheerfully tell me Sophia and I had been picked to go to the Leadership meeting, and it wasn't just a meeting. It was a formal dinner. It was the Leadership Dinner held every year, and this year, she had zero desire to go.

I could see it on her face.

She told me Sophia was thrilled, and we both would be great representations for the faction.

I did my best to ignore Andy's hopeful stare as he lingered nearby, and I knew he was hoping I'd ask him to come along. He had probably never heard of the dinner, but he was close enough to overhear Johanna say I could bring a guest if I wanted. He stared, then knocked over a row of plants and I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd already decided I was going to ask Courtney to come along. She would be upset to miss out on such an experience, and I could only hope this would restore her faith in our friendship.

She'd been scarce since she fled the Dome, but I wasn't worried. She was working in the kitchens, and she waved hello and yelled that she missed me when we went for breakfast.

"I think you and Sophia will have a wonderful time. I've heard this dinner is the most fun. The other meetings are just…meetings." My mom looks lost in her own world, and I wait until she returns to Earth. "Do you want the dress in another color? I can ask May if she has anything pink. The only color I have is white, and it might look like a wedding dress. Maybe she has green or something."

"I'm good with whatever you want to make," I promise, but I have a feeling she's setting me up to look like I was getting married. The pink fabric she had wasn't enough to cover the lining she'd been pinning, and it was unlikely May was hoarding all the fabric in the faction. "Or I could…I could go to the market…"

I immediately regret my words. My mother looks insulted, and she drops her gaze to the side of me.

"Oh." She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. I know she's thinking the worst, but really, I just don't want to add onto her work.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean I don't want you to make the dress. I just don't want to bother you. I could buy something…I have some…um, maybe some points from initiation I think." I fumble through this sentence as I think out loud, trying to remember how our points were assigned.

In Amity, no one really paid for anything. Everything was shared, unless you had your reasons for not wanting to. You earned points by working some of the jobs here, and the record of them wasn't exact. If you wanted a house, you applied for one that was open. You could build one, by yourself or with help from your neighbors. Farmers traded animals and goods, and the only real points spent were on textiles like fabric or thread. We mostly used the honor system if you bought something. More than once, I'd bought a dress from someone and simply told them how many points I had, and they would wave me on my way.

The market was a little more complicated.

Anyone who wanted to sell something there could, and we wrote the points down they were paying. At first, we had no machines, couldn't accept their cards, and were often mocked because of it.

Things had changed slowly. Courtney's mom often went to sell baked goods, and she was the first person to figure out a way to update her sales. She bartered for an ancient card processing machine, and slowly and painfully learned how to use it. She recorded everything down, and once she was done, she had a total for the day. She then loaded all the points she'd earned onto a card, and while useless in Amity, she could spend it at the market. Her method spread through the Amity faction, and things improved.

Now, we had a general store that sold merchandise from the markets, herbs and remedies for whatever you needed, plenty of duck food, and clothing. It wasn't huge, but it was sort of cool. Zander loved buying candy, even though the candy was made here, and he could wander over to the house of whoever had made it, and they occasionally had different styles of clothing or shoes.

Sometimes, they had books.

I'd seen a lot of books at the market, but never bought any. I was usually working if I went, but I loved helping Courtney's mom. Whenever we went to help her, she paid us on the same cards, then we'd wander around and buy things. It felt odd, sort of cold and impersonal, but also way more mature than promising Pablo you had enough to buy tea from him, or you'd drop off a muffin later.

I rarely spent the points unless I found something I loved, and I had the card somewhere. It probably still had enough on it that I could purchase a dress, or I could somehow figure out how to get my initiation points on there.

They weren't really intended for dress shopping, but I could get away with it.

"No, I don't mind making it. It'll be a nice distraction. Only if you want me to. Otherwise…"

"No, you can make it. I want you to." I interrupt her before she spirals too far down, and I figure it'll be fine. She'd never made me anything hideous before, and chances are, she wouldn't want to tarnish the Amity reputation by sending me in something ugly. "Thank you."

"I'll have it done in a few days. You can try it on and we'll see if we need to alter it." She looks relieved, but her smile falters when Leif yells that he dropped all the eggs on the floor. Her eyes shut briefly, then the tension is gone, and she shrugs.

"I'm gonna go help him. You can leave everything in here. I'll start working on it tonight."

"Okay."

She leaves to go help Leif clean up his mess, and I take one final look at myself in the mirror. I try to pull my hair up with one hand, and I rise back up on my toes as high as I can, seeing if I look any older.

I don't, but that's alright.

Eric had kissed me again when he dropped me back off in Amity, a kiss that was warm and slow and made it hard to breathe until he broke away, and he hadn't seemed to mind our height difference one bit.

In fact, he'd stared down at me, smirking as he kissed me once more, the act chaste and slow and sort of greedy when you considered he'd just kissed me, and it took him a long time to let go. If I really thought about it, I could still feel the press of his fingers on my back, and his nose nudging into my hair, and I could even ignore the looming feeling that he was saying goodbye, and not just for two weeks.

With any luck, if I ever could have any, he'd be at this very dinner and I'd get the chance to tell him I didn't want to get left behind anymore.

In the morning, I eat breakfast with my friends.

The Dome is crowded, full of people swarming everywhere and generously inviting others to sit with them. It's a nauseatingly happy vibe through the faction, but that might be because the rain had vanished, and the temperature was holding out at something mostly enjoyable.

It might also have to do with the fact that Dauntless had all but vanished from Amity.

"Are they here?" Courtney sits close to me. So close her knee bumps my leg and her long hair reaches the bench seat. She glances around the Dome furtively, trying to look like her squinted eyes are for any reason other than trying to find our resident spy. "I don't see anyone from Dauntless. I swore you said that one guy was here, but I looked. I don't like him, and neither does Judd."

"Okay, well Judd also believes in aliens so…should we really be going off what Judd thinks?" Sophia sits across from us, and she carefully eats the scrambled eggs she'd picked out. "You know what your brother told me? He told me that the pirate ship at the playground was actually once in space. That aliens used it and when they crashed on Earth, they couldn't get it started, so they left it. So, I wouldn't exactly trust his logic."

"He's very smart," Courtney answers defensively, but she shrugs. "He's a little weird, I know. But he swears that guy Jeremy isn't actually from Dauntless."

"I don't think he's wrong. I swore I heard Landon say his name. I swore he said he was hanging out with him," I add, and I take a bite of my own eggs. They are good, and for a horrifying second, I fear they're made with peace serum. I figure they aren't, because that would be too much for Landon to drug the entire faction, so I keep eating. "Does Judd really think that about the ship? It's a pirate ship. Why would aliens have a pirate ship?"

"Who really knows anything about aliens, Everly?" Courtney shakes her head, and her expression turns annoyed. "Okay, so…are you taking Andy to the dinner with you? Because he's been staring at you this whole time, and he just spilled his coffee all over the table."

I look over a few tables away, and she's correct. Andy is staring. He pauses mopping up his coffee to wave, and I wave back. He looks hopeful, and I realize I'll have to stop this now. While very nice, I had no intention of starting anything with him. Even if I decided he was the love of my life, I couldn't cook him dinner or do anything else that he was probably hoping for. Landon had pointed out that as a wife, I would be the worst, but at least I wasn't ugly.

"I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come with me. I thought the three of us, and Jerry, would have fun," I inform her, and her whole face lights up.

"Really?! You want me to go? Are you sure?" Courtney forgets about Andy, and she throws her arms around me. "Of course, I want to go! I've been dying to get out of this hay filled hell hole. I've been making salads for days and I want to wear something not covered in strawberry syrup and smelling like a bakery!"

Her enthusiasm is contagious. Sophia and I both grin, and we point out she'll need a dress.

One not covered in strawberry syrup.

"I'm on it."

The rest of our breakfast is like a slow return to our normal selves. We spend it giggling, laughing as Courtney reveals the secrets of the kitchens –none of the food has peace serum this week because one of the transfers spilled the whole box onto the floor, and no one could walk in the kitchen this week because the floors were still slippery even after mopping them, and Sophia and I tell her about working in the greenhouse.

The breakfast ends lazily, with almost everyone having left the Dome but us, as the kitchen staff begins to set up for lunch.

The invitation is heavy.

I sit on my bed, holding the envelope in my hand. It's addressed to me, care of the Amity faction, and embossed in gold. I open it slowly, and I smile at the sweeping cursive lettering. It reveals the date, time, and location of the Leadership Dinner. It's clear this isn't just a normal meeting: the invitation states this is a celebration of the factions coming together to unite during a trying time. There is a dress code, hinting that formal wear is preferred, but at the very least, please come looking presentable.

There are directions, an arrangement for a car to pick us up if we are unable to provide our own transportation, and contact information for someone named Quinten, asking that I please fill out my name, the name of my guest, and what I'd like to eat and either send this back, or call him. The options are surprisingly generous; there's everything from a very formal steak dinner to vegetarian options. There's no mockery in any of them, just a box to check which one I'd like, and a second box for which dessert I want.

But I don't focus on that for too long.

I stare at the map they'd placed inside, a finer piece of paper but just as elegant, and I touch it.

There, beneath my fingers, is the road to Dauntless.

This time, he walks alone.

I run right into Tobias while walking home from an exciting day of looking at flowers, and he looks bothered to see me. His expression is grim, tight and unhappy, and his hands are shoved in his pockets. There's a swing of uneasiness in the air, and I immediately regret walking this way.

I also regret not going to see Willow.

Forrest had found me before I could make it over for dinner, and he was crushed to tell me Willow was sleeping, and could I come over another night.

"Hi Everly."

Tobias greets me like he has to, like someone has drilled it into his head to always be polite even if he doesn't want to, because he doesn't seem all that enthused to see me. I stare at him, his hair messed up like he's been running his hands through it, and he looks tired.

Exhausted might be a better word.

"Why are you here? Is there a meeting tonight?" I glance around quickly, praying Landon won't jump out of the trees and try to drag me away. My heart speeds up at the very thought, and I wonder if he's been sent as a distraction. After days of nothing, I'd grown complacent. I loathe the paranoia that Tobias brings, but I'd quickly learned Amity isn't as safe as I thought it was.

Not now, anyway.

"Is Colton here? Did he send you to come get me?" I freeze in place, and I try to prepare myself for whatever is coming. "Well?"

Tobias is quiet. He looks at me, his brow wrinkling together, and it's obvious Colton's attack doesn't meet with his approval. "I'm sorry. I heard about that. I hope you don't think I had anything to do with it."

"Are you sure?" I hadn't pinned the blame on him, because it didn't make sense for him to want me to get attacked. But he wasn't entirely innocent, given what he is doing. "Didn't you train them? Didn't you teach them to fight?" I stare up at him, until he nods miserably.

"Yes but…" he pauses, and his shoulders pull upward. "I didn't tell him to attack you. I had no idea he was planning that. I don't agree with everything they're doing. I offered to help them build an army, not attack the members of Amity."

"You're still a part of it," I answer, and he steps closer. I find myself stepping backward, and he's immediately frustrated at my actions.

"I'm not going to hurt you. There's no meeting. I just came by to tell Evelyn to scale back her plans. I heard Colton went looking for you, and when I agreed to help, this wasn't what I had in mind. I told Evelyn this. It's starting to get…out of her control," Tobias says this urgently, like he's desperate for me to believe him.

I have no reason to.

"I trained them to stand up for themselves. Not to try and harm girls in Amity while they're with their little brother."

"How did you know that?" I struggle to stay in place because he's making me nervous. Despite being with the factionless, Willow confirmed my theory that he isn't factionless. Even now, his clothes are too clean, his hair has been recently cut –too short, almost military like– and his collar is pulled up uncomfortably. His jacket is heavy, thick and dark, and his boots are the same kind Rylan had on.

It doesn't make sense for him to be in Dauntless, but the pieces fit together if I try hard enough.

"Did Evelyn tell you? Is she really your mom?"

He stares at me.

His eyes grow dark, a solemn despair rising up that seeps right into his posture, and he looks to the side of me. Once again, he reminds me of Zander, doing his best not to get in trouble. He stares at the ground for a long time, then shakes his head.

"She's never been my mother."

"Then why are you helping her? Do you have to? Where do you live?" I figure I might as well ask. What do I really have to lose? I'd already been attacked and he promised me there is no meeting today. I suppose he could be lying, but he looks too distraught to be trying to pull off some elaborate scheme right now. "Why would you help the factionless?"

"I have to go. But you're safe. They aren't doing anything for a while because Eric has this faction being watched like no other. He's got eyes everywhere. His main concern is keeping you alive, which should make you nervous." Tobias pushes past me, and for a second, he can't look at me. He stops, then turns to look right at me, and I realize he just said Eric's name like he knows him well. "Do you understand who he is? Do you know what you're getting into? No one on Eric's radar lives for very long."

He waits for my response, but he doesn't' like it.

"He promised me..."

"He promised you what? What on Earth could he have told you?" Tobias grows angry, and the rage is more than just Eric. "There is a reason for everything he does. Once he gets what he wants, it's over. It might seem like fun now, but trust me, the real Eric, the one in Dauntless, isn't the one showing up to walk you home at night. You'd be better off joining Evelyn's army than trusting him, and that's saying something."

He finishes his warning with a disappointed exhale, and when I don't budge, he shakes his head.

"I don't know how else to get it through to you that he's dangerous. Everyone knows he hunts Divergents. He hunts down anyone who doesn't fit into the system and finds out why. So, if he's paying attention to you, you might want to think about why. It's not because he has any real interest in this faction or getting to know you."

"How do you know that?" I stare back at him, refusing to give in to his rant. I'd met Tobias a handful of times, and so far, he is the one on the wrong side of things. "You're the one sneaking around. I know you aren't factionless, so why are you helping them? Eric stopped Colton from attacking. I didn't see you there."

"Don't turn this around on me," Tobias snaps, and he's had enough. "It's obvious you've made up your mind, so I won't waste my breath. Good luck. Let's hope you live to see your nineteenth birthday."

He storms off, keeping his head ducked down and his shoulders drawn up. He doesn't stay on the main pathway for very long; he glances up at the trees, then cuts across the space between the last set of homes and the Dome, and heads for the woods. He goes the same way I'd gone with Eric, but at the last second, he goes straight. He walks in a direction that doesn't make sense to me, but it does when there's a low whistle.

The train rumbles in the distance, not really nearing our faction. It runs along a border, slicing through our woods and sort of a divide, and we rarely acknowledge it. We have no use for the clanking metal cars, or the creaking groans that it brought. Occasionally, I'd stood and watched with Zander as it zoomed past us. Sometimes there were people on it. They yelled or screeched as they went past, banging on the windows or shaking their fists. They were wild, ferocious in their desire to be seen, then gone a second later.

I wonder if he's one of them.

Maybe he didn't fit into any faction, despite having one. Maybe Willow was wrong, and he doesn't truly have anywhere to go.

I can't imagine why anyone would want to get on this particular train, but he does.

I know, because I hear the yelling, the jeering and screaming as the train leaves Amity, then the slow and heavy blanket of telling silence.

In the next few days, my choice to stay in Amity softens.

Just by a fraction of an inch, and mostly because I get to go to the market with Sophia and Courtney. We are assigned to take some of the best plants and flowers we have and put them up for sale. The idea isn't to make a million points or anything drastic, but simply to learn how to help build our community. By selling these items –lush bunches of flowers, dramatically intimidating plants, and even a few wildflowers –we can bring a little brightness to others.

There's some allure to the flowers from other factions, because most outdoor flowers have died by now. The cold weather has choked them out, leaving nothing but hearty trees and random shrubs, and a definite lack of color.

So when I find myself helping tie up flowers for a man in Candor who wants to propose to his girlfriend, I can't really complain.

"This day is going by so fast," Courtney elbows me, and I agree.

My days were going by way too fast lately.

Working in the greenhouses was more complicated than I thought. I spent my mornings taking notes on everything I could, and my afternoons actually working with plants. I ate dinner with my family, took a shower, and checked my phone.

It had become routine, almost like a ritual to see if Eric had messaged me, and sometimes, he had.

It was never anything crazy. A simple message to ask how I was. A message asking if I was asleep. A single phone call, late at night, where I thought he might have been drunk. It didn't seem likely that he could get drunk; he was tall and muscular, and invincible. But that one night, he'd said my name slowly and warmly, and he'd very, very quietly told me he'd been thinking about me. The minute I said his name he snapped out of it, and promised he'd call me back, then never did.

I chalked it up to Rylan and animal skulls, and a hard day of whatever he'd been doing.

I wanted to message him today, but I'd had no time. I left with Sophia and Courtney to go to the market, and Forrest drove us. He helped us load everything into the truck, and it didn't take very long to get there.

We arrived right after lunch to find the market slowly coming together. Each vendor must register in advance, something that is a little more complicated when your faction doesn't use the required email, but someone usually swung by to ask if we'd be interested in coming. Our table was near the end of the first row, and it was a great spot to watch everyone come and go.

The market is one of my favorite places, and one of the very few places I'd actually gone. I'd told Eric I'd never really left Amity, and it was true. I'd never willingly gone out of the faction to another faction until he took me, but the market was in the middle. It was sort of neutral ground, and everyone was welcome, though it had the faint stirrings of Amity to it.

It was an open-air bazaar for shopping, and it was quite the sight.

You could buy anything and everything here. Some brought baked goods, and some sold scavenged electronic equipment. There is a row of screens, each one lit up brighter than the next, replaying the same video. If you wanted one, you could also purchase the box in front of it, and a slew of discs that would grant you hours of distractions. I don't know anyone in Amity who had such a thing, but the people from Erudite seemed the most interested in these, often arguing over which size they wanted.

At the front of our row, are the books. Dozens of shelves of books, some in pristine condition and some not so nice, but all for sale. They are categorized into multiple sections, and the most popular one seems to be the mystery shelf. For two points, you can pick a book that's wrapped up and read something you might not have normally picked out.

Beside them, is a man selling paintings, and for an extra fee, he'll paint one of you. However you want to be portrayed, in whatever size you desire.

"We've already sold half of what we brought. I wish we could come here more often." Sophia carefully inventories our flowers, and I turn away from her when a man from Abnegation stops at our table.

"Hello." He's painfully shy, barely looking me in the eye, and he points at the simplest bunch of flowers we have. "Are those for sale?"

He can't be much older than me, and his blond hair is dark. His clothes are grey, nondescript, and he waits patiently for me to answer him.

"I'd like to buy them, if I can."

"Those? You can just have them. They're just wildflowers. Sometimes we use them as filler in the other bouquets." I move to grab them, figuring we won't need too many more. "Is it for someone important?"

He looks hesitant to answer me.

Abnegation is not my favorite faction. For starters, they led such simple lives that they made us look like wealthy assholes in comparison. They gave almost everything away, spent their lives serving others, and were the most steadfast in their decision to help the factionless. It was a little strange when you considered we caught the most flack for helping them, but Abnegation would almost let them move in if they asked.

"It's my mom's birthday. I thought maybe she'd like them. My dad is sort of sick, so we haven't done anything for her. I came here when I heard the market was open." He smiles again, and I can't let him take her some wildflowers.

"Give me a second." I duck back to where the rest of the flowers were being kept, several in large vases with cold water, and several more in Forrest's refrigerated coolers, and I find a bunch that I thought were the prettiest. I'd left them back here, secretly hoping no one would buy them.

They are a bright, stunning shade of yellow. They came from May's yard, and she willingly gave them to whoever wanted them. She kept them in a garden behind her house, and her genius was on par with her dedication to domesticating ducks. She had her own greenhouse, and some of the most gorgeous blooms came from there.

"Here. These are better. They match the wildflowers and they're the happiest color. I hope she has a good birthday." I walk around the table to hand them to him, and his eyes widen in surprise. "You don't have to pay for them. May would be happy to know they're going somewhere special."

"Are you sure?" His eyes are as wide as can be at the flowers, and he looks at me for a second too long. "They match your dress."

His stare is quick, and guilty. He looks away the minute he sees my collarbone and averts it back to the bouquet. "You really don't want me to pay?"

"No, they're yours. Take them," I smile as I hand them to him, and his smile back is pure appreciation.

"Thank you."

He stares again, sort of memorizing me in a way that he tells me he picked the wrong faction to stay in, and I wait until he leaves. I watch him head back into the market, carefully carrying the flowers close to his chest like they were worth more than anything, right past Rylan, bargaining with someone over the price of a sword.

It's large, comically so, and the man looks hesitant to let him have it.

Also looking hesitant is Eric, looking at me like he's ten thousand miles away.

"Did he pay for those flowers?"

Eric hisses the words against my neck, and his fingers pull down the fabric of my dress. The top slides off easily, too much fabric, a size too large, but it stops when it hits my shoulder. His grunt of frustration is understandable; he'd stalked right over to me, reached for my hand, and pulled me away from the flowers. I went along willingly, thinking how nice it was to see him and how he looked a little bit tired himself, when he pushed me out the front gate, and right over to the outer wall of the market.

I bumped into board used to create the mazelike layout, and we were hidden out of sight thanks to the heavy doors. They are propped up, large and wide, and it creates the perfect alcove for us to be in.

I thought he wanted to talk. The last time I saw him was when he dropped me off, and he'd looked like he didn't want to. It was a familiar pattern that I think I'd figured out: every interaction or confession was followed by him retreating. This wasn't just ordinary affection or a game, it was like he simply couldn't handle the normalcy of him and I. Perhaps he really hadn't done anything but sleep with Ashley, though even the idea made my stomach hurt.

I'd purposely not thought about that.

But now, I wonder what it would be like to sleep with him.

The image pops into my head when he sinks his teeth into my neck, and he pushes me back even further. My back hits the wall, and it's surprisingly sturdy. Eric's hands move to my waist, and he slides one lower, to my hip, impatiently waiting for my answer.

"I gave them to him. It's his mom's birthday," I answer, or I try to.

His other hand has found the bottom of my dress. He moves it up, sliding beneath it to find my thigh, and I can barely think.

He is far more experienced at this than I am, but I willingly go along with it. I like the desperation in his touch, the way his fingers are digging into my skin and he's working closer and closer. I like the way he's moved on to kissing me, rough lips demanding and insistent against my own, then softening when they slide to my cheek. He says my name lowly, growling it when I touch the back of his head, urging him on, and I realize I'd willingly go along with him if he asked.

I wasn't going to make it two weeks.

I wanted this. I wanted him, lusty and frantic and currently admitting he missed me. It's like the truck all over again, where he doesn't know why but just that he does, and he says it again, scraping the words against my throat.

"I didn't think you'd be here," Eric pulls away to look at me, and I'm pinned against the wall. His eyes are wild, burning with want to get the dress off me, despite the steady line of people going in and out of the market. Around the door, a young child begs for his parents to hurry up, and in the distance, Jason loudly yells for Rylan to come look at something. "I was thinking I wouldn't see you until we found Evelyn."

I immediately wonder if that was his plan. If he'd given himself two weeks to find and capture her, and then he'd do the same to me.

"I didn't think I'd see you for a while. You sounded like you were really saying goodbye," I tell him, and I touch his hair again. It's soft beneath my fingers, and he closes his eyes when I get to the nape of his neck. "Like a real goodbye."

"I was. I'm…I have to work in Erudite. Jeanine isn't very happy these days and…" he loses his train of thought when his head falls forward, and his hand on my leg moves up higher. This time, he does get as high as my underwear, and his fingers stop when they touch the fabric.

I watch his expression change, and I smile.

I knew which ones they were. They were very pretty, almost too fancy to be worn to the market. I'd bought them in Amity, at the general store, when some random woman was working who wasn't paying attention to who I was. I could buy whatever I wanted, but this purchase would have been embarrassing if it had been Jerry in there. The delicate underwear are soft and scalloped, and fairly close to nothing. I'm sure they might be considered scandalous elsewhere, but I liked them.

I bet Eric would, too.

If he could see them.

"I'm glad I got to see you today." I move my hand to touch his face, his jaw, his throat, and then I grasp onto the collar of his jacket. I pull him back down to me, and he smirks when his nose brushes mine. "Do you want some flowers to take back?"

"Fuck no." He snickers, but his grin is wicked. "I can think of something else I'd like to take back, but I can't. Not yet. Not until I'm sure of a few things."

I don't know what he's talking about, but I don't care. He touches his lips to mine, and a terrible image bursts into my head. I shake my head away from him, and he recoils, understandably insulted.

"What's wrong?"

His voice is rough, and so are his fingers. The one hand beneath my dress, the skirt of it hiked up and my leg bent as his hand moved to slide beneath my ass, stills. He's leaning away from me but trying to keep me close at the same time.

"Everly?"

"I met Ashley. In Amity," I blurt out, and he's unable to stop himself from looking stunned. "She came looking for me. She said her dad saw us and you said my name and he heard it. She asked me where you were."

"What did you tell her?" He cocks his head, and just like that, he's back close. He closes any distance between us, and he yanks me forward. "She thought I was in Amity? She actually went to Amity? I'm shocked."

"I told her where to go. I sent her to Carole's house," I answer, and I loop my arms around his neck. He shifts us back more, so I'm really trapped, and he sort of picks me up. My feet leave the ground before I can realize what he's doing, and his hips press against mine. "I was hoping maybe Carole would take care of her…but I didn't wait to find out."

Eric smiles.

It's one of the more real smiles, where he's fully amused and he doesn't even bother trying not to laugh.

"You sent her to the chicken murderer? Maybe you should have picked Dauntless, Amity," he stares so intently that it's like it could have happened, and I sort of wish I had been braver. "I could have trained you. Kept you with me. I only have one bed, though."

My whole world grows fuzzy with the thought, and I nod. "That's it?"

He snorts, and he likes this question for some reason. "The other room is an office. I don't have an entire family to house, just me."

He nudges me again, and I'm fully aware of how close we are. I'd gotten close to him before, but not like this. Not pressed against his entire body, without an inch of space between us. His chest is against mine, his hand is now firmly beneath me, inching me closer, and his hips are angled toward mine. His eyes have turned dark, and every so often, his gaze falls to my mouth.

Unfortunately, things don't go much further.

I feel him tense up, especially when I place my hands on his face, and I resume kissing him. For a few blissful minutes, I'm lost in the feeling of his mouth on mine. His legs, nudging mine apart, and his hands, warming my skin with every passing second.

His hand beneath my dress moves, finding the ruffled waistband of my underwear. He pauses there, and I wait for him to fully pull them down, and I'm surprisingly hopeful at the thought. I don't know what would happen next, but I guess I'll find out.

I don't.

Eric's restraint is better than mine. He brushes his lips against mine once more, and it's like it dawns on him what he's about to do. He pulls back, dropping me back to the ground. He looks fairly unbothered, but his breathing isn't as even as it was, and he steps away from me, like he shouldn't stay too close.

He probably shouldn't.

I stare up at him, my lips parted and my dress half off, and I find myself utterly desperate to have him keep going.

"Why'd you stop?" I ask, and he cocks his head to the side. "Was it something I said?"

"No," Eric shakes his head, and he fixes his collar. He adjusts it needlessly, then pauses to look at me. "Not here. You need to go back to Amity, and I need to go back…" He stops again, and this time, he reaches to shove the fabric back up. He fumbles with it on my shoulder, trying to get the sleeves to stay in place, and he gives up completely.

"I need to get back to Dauntless."

He lunges for me, attacking my mouth with a vengeance. My lips part the second I pick up on his urgency, and both of his hands destroy my hair. He slides them in roughly, pulling me up toward him, and I rise up on my toes to kiss him. I stumble forward, leaning into him, and one of his hands grasps the back of my head. His fingers dig into my hair, and the minute his tongue touches mine, he breaks away.

Eric steps back, and this time, he looks wild.

"Two weeks Amity. Two weeks."

He returns me to the flowers just as quickly as we left.

Eric and I walk through the market together, and I do my best to appear as inconspicuous as ever. I smooth my hair back down, trying to make it look like Eric's hands hadn't been in it, and he tries to fix my dress. For a few steps, it stayed tangled around my legs and stuck funny on my shoulder, and no matter what he did, it didn't budge. We both walk casually, his hand grazing mine, then he moves it to the small of my back to guide me to where my friends are standing.

Eric keeps his stare straight ahead, but his hand on me, right up until I see Sophia and Courtney.

"Hey guys," I smile, but their expressions tell me all I need to know.

They're standing with Jason and Rylan and they all face us.

Sophia and Courtney are both wide eyed, and their eyes take in my disheveled appearance and Eric's smug smirk.

Jason nods in approval.

Then there is Rylan.

He stands there with one hand on his hip, and the other on a sword nearly as tall as he is. His eyes flit back and forth, and it doesn't take him long to grin, his expression wider and happier than ever.

He turns to Jason and points at him in triumph.

"You owe me twenty points."


	15. Dinner at Dauntless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Bamberlee for editing!

Two days later, Landon shows up.

I glare at him from behind a wave of greenery, swatting at something buzzing menacingly through the greenhouse, and smacking Andy instead. He turns to look in sheer surprise, and I'm immediately horrified.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. I was trying to hit that bug but I was looking over there at Landon and I accidentally got you. I'm really sorry. I don't normally hit people," I apologize profusely, trying to explain myself before he hears that I punched Landon and decides I am a violent asshole, but he's not mad.

"It's alright. I was meaning to ask you about that guy. Someone said you were engaged to him."

I stop my tirade of apologies. I stare at Andy in sheer horror, and even more horror as Landon stops to talk to my father, then leaves with a sneer when my father shakes his head.

"Engaged? To…him?"

"Yeah, he was telling one of the transfers, Justin? I think, I don't really know his name. There's a lot of us. But he said you guys were going to get married but uh, you cheated on him with some guy from Dauntless. One of the soldiers. I was…kinda wondering if it was that Jeremy guy. He asked me about you the other day."

It takes everything in me not to throw the plant at Andy's head or drop it. I stay still, but I'm so mad I could scream. "I didn't cheat on anyone. We were never together. Landon is a creep, and a violent one at that."

Andy nods, and to my shock, he looks like he believes me. "A bunch of us got the vibe he wasn't being honest. He came to warn us that Hank is your dad and you can get away with murder. He's sort of…aggressive when you consider where he lives. I know everyone here doesn't take the peace serum, but he seems like he could use a dose or two."

"He attacked me. Hardly anyone believes me, but he came after me a while ago. I've been avoiding him ever since." I cross my arms as my father walks by, and it's hard to miss his flinch when he realizes what I'm talking about. "Landon told me I had nothing to offer anyone here. So…take that for what it's worth."

"He doesn't speak too kindly about anyone here. Especially you. I thought it was weird." Andy shrugs, and in this moment, I could hug him. My friends believed me, because they'd witnessed Landon at his worst, but it had been a struggle for my own family to admit Landon isn't at all the person he pretended to be.

"He invited me to some meeting thing. I thought he was talking about here. I like the ones here. I think it's cool that everyone votes and there's no real argument over how to handle things. But he said it wasn't actually for Amity, but in Amity?" Andy is rightfully confused, and I watch my father linger, trying to figure out if he'd have Andy for a son in law.

I shake my head at him, and I wait until he leaves to help someone else. "He's part of an army that is made up of factionless. He's trying to help build the army and, honestly, it's not very safe. I wouldn't go if I were you. If he keeps bugging you, tell Johanna."

"Funny you say that." Andy answers slowly. "He asked that if I did decide to go, that I would bring you along. He thought maybe you'd come if I asked you. It's this Wednesday."

I stare at him, and this time, I do drop the plant.

"Should I go? Andy said it's happening Wednesday."

"Are you insane?" Eric hisses the words through the phone, and despite sounding busy, I have his full attention. "Everly, for the love of…please tell me you aren't considering going to a factionless meeting. Are you trying to wind up dead? I just got some control over the situation."

"You did?" I sit down on the bed, and I try to remember him sitting here. He'd looked funny against the pink comforter, but he'd willingly pulled me against him and kissed my cheek once he was sure I was alright. "What did you do?"

Eric sighs.

Like most things I want to know, he avoids actually answering and distracts himself. I hear him mutter something to someone, and I catch the name Linda, then a request for less people having his email.

"We got a break. After days of spotty connection, Colton's tracker is giving us his exact location and it hasn't moved in days. We think we know exactly where their camp is. It shows him moving within the same radius, but not leaving the area. Jason and Rylan are going out there."

"To find him?" I sink back against the pillows and I stare up at the ceiling. "Or just to see if they can find the location? They should wait until Wednesday and then ambush him."

I'm met with silence.

After an entire minute, Eric finally answers. "They're… going to find the location. Are you sure you should have picked Amity?"

"Why?" I close my eyes, and I try to imagine being anywhere but here.

"Because. No one else here suggested ambushing him. Just you," Eric is still hissing his words, but he sounds a little more pleased. "Amity, what are you doing? Did you fall asleep?"

His demands echo in my ear, but all I can think is how it felt good to kiss him at the market. How his hands went right for me, how he lifted me up, how his chest was against mine, crushing me into the wall, and he only stopped because he realized he was about to not stop.

I was happy he'd called me today. He seemed to take the news that I'd met Ashley and run with it. Now, every so often, he would text me. Things like Rylan says hello or Are you awake? It's eleven am, all kinds of stuff that wasn't personal, but allowed him to check in and appear like he wasn't.

The last one today had come from Rylan, informing me that in order to keep me safe, he would need to know my exact height.

Eric called me a minute later, and I had a feeling he'd heard about Rylan's message.

"No, I'm just laying on my bed. It's late."

"It's three thirty in the afternoon," Eric dryly informs me, and I try not to laugh.

I'd been up since five this morning. Zander woke up after having a dream about a cupcake with legs, and he insisted upon trying to recreate this. I found myself standing in our kitchen, mixing up cupcake batter by five thirty, and trying to figure out a way to give it legs that he would approve of. Once I decided gummy worms would work for legs, I stuck them in the oven. I got ready for my day in the greenhouse, and nearly fell asleep by the time we left to eat lunch.

My afternoon was slightly better. Andy tripped over a hose and knocked down several trays of vegetables, and Sophia laughed so hard she fell over the pots waiting for plants. My father looked like he wanted to send everyone home, and once Landon left and the afternoon was ruined, he did.

Two hours early.

I had meant to ask Andy about talking to Jeremy, but I was so tired that I spaced it, and figured I'd wait until tomorrow.

"I might take a nap. Zander and I got up early to make cupcakes." I yawn, and Eric's rage lessens. "Hey, is Rylan's leg really broken?"

"No, the tech mixed up the x-ray. He got the cast off today, but he's oddly disappointed," Eric answers tightly, and I can hear the tension in his voice. "I have to go. I have a meeting in a few minutes and paperwork to do, and I'm waiting on forms that still haven't arrived."

His rant continues for a few minutes, and I wonder if he ever told anyone this sort of stuff. He's talking like I know what forms he's looking for, or why it's important that he has them, but I listen to him. I let him talk until he's realized I've been quiet, and he stops. "Everly?"

"I'm listening. I don't know anything about the paperwork but I hope you find it." My eyes are still shut, and I turn so I can lie on my side. "I don't think Johanna ever does paperwork."

"She doesn't. But I need you to tell me you aren't going to the factionless meeting. I need to hear you say _Eric, I'm not going to the factionless meeting._ " He demands, and I shake my head.

"I was invited, though. Maybe I should go. Isn't it rude if I don't respond to the invitation? I could get closer than Jason and Rylan can. If I go, I could tell you what's going on. I can call right after…." I offer, and it's hard to miss how irate he is.

"Oh, you were invited? Well definitely go then. You don't want to be rude." Eric roars, and I wonder if he's always this worked up. "Why don't you just go ahead and join their army? You can be undercover. Take them all down yourself."

"Okay," I agree, and I have to admit, I get a tiny thrill out of giving him shit. I have absolutely no intention of going or joining any army, but it's good to hear him losing his mind over the idea. It's almost payback for him hanging up after announcing I was too young, though he definitely didn't find me too young when his hand was under my dress.

I wasn't that young, either.

I mean, sure I was eighteen, but I'd be nineteen soon, and maybe that would sound better.

"Okay, well I'll keep you posted. I could ask Evelyn when she's planning on attacking."

_"Okay."_ He repeats, and then there's nothing. It's like he doesn't know what to say, and I hear him cover the phone and yell as loud as he can to get Jason in his office. "Okay. Fine. Good luck. I hope they don't kill you."

"Goodnight," I yawn, and he yells again.

He sounds odd, losing the too cool to care persona he liked to have, and begins sounding like he's close to hyperventilating. He yells something about hurrying the fuck up, and I miss the rest.

I set the phone down beside me, and I fall asleep, only to dream of Andy turning into a cupcake with human legs, doing his best to run away from Eric.

Wednesday brings a wave of excitement.

For one, it's cold and sunny, but there is no snow. My father holds his class outside, taking us to a few spots near the fields to show us the crops. Our lesson concludes when we walk through the fields, and our objective is to name the vegetables that are growing. My fingers skim over the few remaining corn stalks, and I linger near the row at the very end. Andy walks a few feet behind me, scribbling notes down left and right and occasionally mumbling something he'd noticed about the watering system.

I'd discovered he is very smart. I tried to guess if he came from Erudite or Candor, but I lost interest when I realized we were being let out early again, because my father had a meeting.

I glared at him from the edge of the field, and he shook his head.

"It's a meeting with Johanna. Calm down, Everly. Don't forget to turn in your worksheet on crop water maintenance."

The next wave of excitement was Carole, riding her bike through the faction. She'd caused a minor collision when Jerry hosted a standoff and refused to get out of her way, and now, they'd been sent to my mother. Both were bleeding, both blamed the other, and neither would admit fault. There was a lot of yelling, more chicken murder blaming, and Carole threatening to sue everyone. She demanded to speak to Jack Kang immediately, and when Johanna couldn't calm her down, she took them to my mother.

That meant I was home alone with my brothers and sisters, and the only adult there when Rylan showed up.

He knocked on the door like he was on a mission, high fived a stunned Wesley, and bounced in like he was a long lost family member. He paused in the kitchen, beaming as Holly and Paisley looked up at him, and he smiled even wider when he saw me.

"I'm just here on a follow up investigation to see if any more murders have been committed, and if they have, are you worried? On a scale of one to Jerry, how nervous are you that you could be the next victim?" Rylan stands there, looking both professional and enthused. The cast is gone from his leg, and his boots are untied. His hair is pulled back, and next to him, Jason rolls his eyes.

"Wouldn't anyone be worried about being murdered?" Jason glances around politely, and his hair is pulled up higher than Rylan's. I wonder if they had ever had short hair, because their long hair seemed out of character for soldiers. "Everly, good! You're here. Eric told us to come talk to you specifically."

"Oh did he?" I lean against the kitchen island, helping Zander frost a second batch of his legged cupcakes. "About what?"

"He needs your opinion on a few things. Important things," Rylan answers casually, and Jason tries not to laugh. "This might take a while. Maybe all night. Maybe you could make dinner. Followed by dessert. Then coffee. Perhaps, then we move onto some after coffee drinks."

"What comes after coffee? Water?" Wesley looks confused, and he slinks over by me. "Do they know you can't cook? Should I go find the toast again? I don't know if we have enough bread."

"No, just stay here. And I can cook, so shut up. No one is eating toast for dinner," I shoo him away, and he heads to the pantry despite my instructions. "Are you two here so I don't go to the meeting?" I hold up the knife with the frosting on it, and Rylan pretends to be insulted.

"Yes."

"Really, Everly? After all we've been through?"

Jason and Rylan answer at the same time, and neither move.

"Okay, fine, since Jason ruined my plan. We are here because Eric would prefer if you stay home tonight, and seeing how he's been summoned to Erudite to go tour one of the labs, you get us!" Rylan relents, and he heads straight to the table. He sits down by Holly, and gestures for Jason to follow him. "But if you're making dinner, we'll stay. Neither of us have eaten anything in an hour."

"Did no one hear me? She can't cook! She'll burn your food! She can only make cereal!" Wesley yells, and I decide he's no longer my favorite brother.

"I can cook. Just…let me finish these and I'll make you something. But it won't take all night. I'll have plenty of time to make the meeting," I flash them a bright smile, and Rylan's eyes widen. "Kidding. I have a few other things to do besides join the factionless in their attempt to take down the entire system."

"Okay, well good. That was our main concern," Jason sits down beside him, and he glances at my sisters. "Are you sure you can cook? Maybe Quinten will deliver something? Rylan and I could call him. He might be up for a drive."

"To Amity? Nah, he won't. He's got Four and Lauren's classes eating more than ever. He can barely keep up. Plus, I think tonight's dinner is labeled mystery meat," Rylan answers in a moment of rare seriousness, and he pulls out his phone. "I'm just letting Eric know we're here. He's on a rampage today."

"Why?" I finish the cupcake and hand it to Zander to inspect. It meets his approval, and he takes it, then jumps off the counter to bring it to Rylan.

"Why is he on a rampage? When is he not on a rampage? I think Linda forgot to tell him he had a meeting request, and he showed up and everyone was in his office. Then there was our whole argument over transferring factions and what if someone fails initiation and do they have to be factionless and hey! Wait, is this for me?" Rylan's eyes widen in pure joy at Zander's offering, and he holds it up to examine it. "Did you make this, Z-man? Harrison said you were cool, but he didn't say you were walking cupcakes kind of cool."

"Is he here?" Zander moves closer, and he looks up at Jason. "Where?"

"He's not. But you never know where he is," Jason smiles. "Maybe he'll come by. I know he was working today. I saw him earlier with Eric."

"Eric?" Zander asks, and Rylan snickers.

"Sadly, there's not enough hair gel in the world for us to be Eric. I'm Rylan, with an L, and this is Jason, with an ASON." Rylan informs him.

Jason snorts, but Zander decides they are a passable substitute.

He stares at them, then demands they go see his room.

"I have a gun! By my bed! Come see!" Zander insists, and to my surprise, they both stand up and agree to go with him. He takes both their hands, and they don't even care that he's covered in frosting, nor that he's going to keep them up there forever, showing them everything he owns.

"Do they know where he's taking them? He's extra bored today." Holly questions, peering up from her book to watch them head upstairs and I shake my head.

"Aren't we all?" Wesley yells back, and there's crash as half the pantry falls down around him. "Crap! I just spilled all the cereal. Now we won't have anything to eat."

"Wesley, go try and save them from Zander. Please." I beg, and I scramble to find a pot to boil some water.

Jason and Rylan are in for a big surprise, when they discover that not only did Zander have a gun, but he wasn't about to let them leave for any reason in the world.

Less than an hour later, dinner is served.

To be fair to Wesley, I wasn't a stellar chef. Our mother is; she creates meals out of absolutely nothing, and they often are enough to feed an army. I could bake almost anything, but the second it got more complicated, I lost all interest.

And hope.

But tonight, I happily make them spaghetti and it's completely edible. Even Wesley could have cooked this. He reluctantly agreed to help make garlic bread instead of toast, and he watched carefully while I cooked the meatballs. When he was sure I wasn't going to burn the house down with him in it, he sat a few seats away from Jason and Rylan, and watched them out of the corner of his eye.

They are oddly content to be here.

Both are polite and well mannered. They washed their hands before eating, once Zander had shown them every single toy he'd ever had, and they helped Holly set the table. Jason offered to find forks, and Rylan helped me drain the noodles. It was a weird scenario, because while they were content, I couldn't imagine Eric eating dinner here.

"This is good. Christina and I usually order dinner. She always says she isn't hungry, then she eats half of my food," Rylan swallows down a large bite of noodles, and grins. "She never orders any dessert, either."

"Meghan does. Extra dessert. And drinks. Quinten hates bringing them up, but we always order drinks. I even tip him well," Jason frowns, and there's a flash of insult. "I can't remember the last time he made spaghetti."

"Is Meghan your…wife?" Wesley asks curiously, and he stares at them intently. Both are tall and fit, and they don't look entirely out of place except for the uniforms. Their hair is different, but both pulled back, and they don't seem mean or arrogant or rude. They'd even entertained Zander, which was an exhausting feat.

For soldiers from Dauntless, they were almost too nice.

Especially when Zander falls out of his seat, and nearly takes them down with him.

"No, but she'd like to be," Rylan elbows Jason, and Jason's face turns red. He distracts himself by picking Zander up, and helping him back onto the bench. "Jason doesn't want to get married. He has commitment issues."

"I do not!" Jason protests. "I just don't see the point. We live together. Isn't that enough? I went to use a towel the other day and it was green. So, I gave her my card and she went and bought more towels. We don't need to be married for that."

"Okay, but if you break up, does she get to keep those towels?" Rylan inquires. "Or is it, joint custody of the towels? Does she have to have green hair?"

"How is her hair green?" Paisley slides a little closer to Rylan, and she ignores my gesture for her to stop her love affair right this very second. She looks at his hair, then smiles. "Does Christina have green hair?"

"No, hers is black!" He seems psyched by this, but I get the impression she could be bald and he'd still like her. "Sort of like…Everly's, but shorter." He looks at me for a long time, and I look back at him. "Have you ever cut your hair?"

I shake my head no. Periodically, my mother trimmed the ends, but nothing more than that.

"I see," Rylan leans back, and he elbows Jason. "I have to go make a phone call. Definitely not to Eric, and definitely not about this dinner."

"You do that," Jason pats him on the arm, and he tries to keep a straight face. "I'm sure Everly isn't at all suspicious after that announcement."

"I'll go with you," Paisley volunteers, and he doesn't tell her no. He waves her along with him, and the two head outside. The front door slams shut, and Wesley and Leif watch them go. A moment later, Holly bows out, taking her plate to the sink and telling everyone goodnight.

A moment of silence lapses over us, and I look over at Jason.

"He's going to call Eric, isn't he?" I ask, and I twirl the noodles around my plate. "Why is he in Erudite again?"

He stalls. He toys with his drink, and I remember the first time I'd ever met him. I thought he was nice, and he's still nice. Though he's clearly trying to think of an answer, which hints the truth isn't something I'll like. His gaze slides over to Wesley and Leif, but they're busy shoving more pasta in their mouth and trying to see who can eat faster.

"Okay, so…it's a long story but you know the serums you guys use? The peace serum?" Jason looks up at me, and his mood shifts. "Eric, he's from Erudite and he's got some ties that keep him involved in what their labs create. He sort of…makes sure they're working on the right kind of serums. Some are used to induce hallucinations. Some we use in our initiations. Some force people to tell the truth and some make you not care about anything."

"The peace serum," I answer, and his nod isn't super thrilled.

"They constantly create new ones. Stronger, quicker, more potent. They are always trying to see what they can do with them. Eric is involved because…. we want to know what they're creating. A few weeks ago, they came up with a memory loss one. A few milliliters of it, and your mind is a blank slate. There is a debate raging about whether or not it's cruel to use. Is it beneficial to, say, criminals or people who attack the factions? Should we inject it into people trying to plot against our system?"

I wait for him to continue, but I have to admit this makes me a little nervous.

"They all look alike. Some have a faint color, some are clear. The memory loss one is a big topic right now, and Eric went tonight because a newer version came out. He makes sure that it's only being used in a testing state, and if it works, it's formula is catalogued and they decide to store it or mass produce it."

"How do they test it?" I stare at him, and I have a feeling I already know the answer.

He does, too.

His smile falters, and there's an odd wince of sympathy to it.

"They try it on Divergents first to see if they react to it. If they don't, then they find a factionless person who won't be missed. Once they have their conclusion, they can either start using the serum, or decide not to. Eric is involved even more now because Erudite had a few cases go missing. We think the factionless might have some, but if they do, who knows what they'd do with them. So…that's where Eric is."

"I see."

I force a smile onto my face, and I try to take another bite of my dinner. A feeling of panic rises up, but for entirely different reasons. I try to downplay it, but it's a struggle.

Jason notices.

"He'd rather be here, I'm sure. But hey, um, has Rylan asked you anything weird lately? Because Eric warned him not to." Jason changes the subject back to Rylan, who appears with Paisley trailing behind him, and they rejoin the dinner table. Rylan cheerfully announces Eric is not having a good time in Erudite, but that he doesn't know that because he certainly didn't talk to him.

Next to him, Paisley smiles smugly, all the way through the rest of dinner, dessert, coffee, and after coffee drinks.

When they say goodbye, it's quite the moment.

Zander clings to them, desperate to stay with his uniformed heroes just a little longer, and he begs to go see Dauntless.

They might have taken him with them, but my mother comes home, looking exhausted as ever. She's not even surprised to see them, or maybe the dark uniforms are such a common sight now that nothing is surprising.

Instead, she untangles Zander from Jason's leg, and gently tells them goodnight.

They linger for only a second, so Rylan can take a picture with me, and then they rush off into the night, laughing and arguing over who is going to call Eric first.

It feels fitting that I find him in total darkness.

Looking for Tobias is a risk.

Once I'd said goodbye to Jason and Rylan, I helped clean up. When things quieted down enough that I had a few minutes, I knew I had to work fast. Zander went to sleep once my mother was home, having eaten more pasta than one would think possible, and Holly and Paisley lost all interest in hanging out once the soldiers were gone. Wesley and Leif went upstairs for good once we'd all finished washing the dishes, and my father still wasn't back.

I told my mother I was going for a walk, and promised I'd be careful.

I didn't know what exactly I was hoping to accomplish, but I find him walking in the dark, and I refuse to waste the opportunity.

I almost run right into him, but he ducks into the Dome when a truck drives past, the lights casting a bright glow, and he panics even though it's only one of our work trucks. It keeps going, rumbling past the Dome and toward the greenhouses, and my guess is it's my father, returning from wherever his meeting was.

"Hey! Wait up!"

I follow Tobias inside, and it's so dark I almost can't see. The lights have been turned off since everyone is gone for the day, and the only light comes from moonlight, pouring in through the high window. It's not enough to see very far, and it sets an eerie mood, especially when I realize he's right in front of me.

"What do you want?" He stops wherever he was going, which is odd, because he's not from here, so he shouldn't know where he's going, and he glares at me. "Why are you following me?"

"Why am I following you? Why are you in the Dome? You don't even belong here," I whisper forcefully, and I try to keep my voice down. Odds are, no one is here. With my luck, Landon was hanging from the rafters, waiting to jump down and announce my time is up. "Why are you sneaking around?"

"Look, I have to get back to my faction. I just…I took a short cut and ducked through here when I saw the truck. The door was open."

"They're always open," I inform him, and it's half true. At some point, someone locked them so the factionless couldn't come and raid the kitchens. "How was your meeting tonight? Did Dauntless show up?"

I watch his face carefully, and he looks to the side. Tobias' irritation is hard to hide; he has to work not to look moody, and he roughly chews over his words before he says them.

"How did you know they were coming?"

"I can't tell you. Did you steal the serum from Erudite?" I don't answer him, and his eyes narrow. He tilts his head slightly, displeased as ever. "Oh, I bet you thought I didn't know that. What is Evelyn doing with it? Does she even know what it is?"

"Unfortunately, yes. She knows what it is. They aren't doing anything with it. She won't, not unless she's forced to." He stares me down, and it's not nice. "Why didn't you come to the meeting? Did Eric tell you not to?"

"Do you know him?" I stare right back, and I decide we are not friends, and we never will be. "I heard about the missing serums and how they thought the factionless took them. I just wanted to know what she's planning on doing with them."

He struggles to answer me.

His frustration is real and angry, and it almost consumes him. He finally shrugs, and I know he's not happy with any of this. "Look, I know you don't trust me, because for some reason, you trust the one person you shouldn't, but Evelyn doesn't want to use the serum. They stumbled upon it and considered it a lucky break. It's a last resort."

"Which one is it?" I stand my ground, and in the darkness, someone walks past the Dome. I gesture for Tobias to follow me, and it takes him longer than it should for him to move. "Is it peace serum? The lying one?"

"Truth serum? No, it's not." He glances at the windows and we walk quickly, and to my horror, there's someone there. We can hear them talking, and when we start walking again, the person outside walks along with us. "It's the memory one. It's a memory loss serum. It's labeled as Vide. She knew what it meant."

"Vide?"

"It means empty. She claims half a syringe is all it takes to wipe someone's mind clean. She doesn't feel it's safe for Erudite to have it, so when they found it, they took it with them." He and I walk faster, and I lead him to the kitchens. "Erudite isn't all that trustworthy. I don't blame her."

"So you don't trust Erudite, you don't trust Eric, and you don't trust me. Is there anyone you do trust?" I watch him narrowly miss the shiny silver counter, and he moves quickly. "Or do you dislike all the factions?"

I squint at him, trying to figure out where he is from. I wanted to believe he is from Dauntless. His clothes are dark, his boots are dark, but he's so shifty that it seems like maybe he's from nowhere.

"I don't…why would I trust you? You seem to be very close with Eric and I've mentioned that's not safe," he frowns, but he stops while I lead him to the back of the kitchens. "Where are you taking me?"

"There's a door over here. It leads into the woods," I lead him around the large walk in pantry, and the exit sign looms before us. "I'm not close to him. I'm just…I'm still alive aren't I?"

He stops when we reach the door, and he's not impressed. His eyes are dull, and he sort of sighs, like I'm incredibly stupid.

"For now. Who knows what next week will bring."

He takes off once I get it open, pushing past me and into the darkness.

"Wait!" I yell, wanting him to stop so I could ask him a few more things, but he doesn't.

He sprints into the darkness, into the woods where there are no cameras and plenty of things that are awake at night, and he doesn't look back.

I wait until I can't see him anymore, and dejectedly, I slam the door shut and figure I might as well head home.

I don't get very far.

I find Landon standing there, waiting for me.

"What's his deal? Is Evelyn really his mother?" I walk with Landon, figuring if I was going to die, I might as well ask a few questions. "He always seems really unhappy."

"He is," Landon says, and he's unbothered by this revelation.

For a brief second, we'd both stood there staring at each other. The air was cold and smelled like the threat of a storm. He held his palms up in surrender, and I took a gamble by nodding a hello. He took off in the same direction I did, and I assumed the meeting hadn't happened.

Now, he's oddly subdued. He didn't lunge for me or call his friends to come grab me, he simply started walking with me, and kept his gaze ahead. "Tobias Eaton is a miserable fuck. He wants to help, but he can't help. Half the time, his schedule doesn't line up with ours. Tonight, he had some bullshit about why he couldn't come, then he shows up right at the end. Right when your idiot friends arrived. He took off so fast you would have thought they were coming for him."

"Who showed up? The soldiers?" I look at Landon, and for just a moment, he's the Landon I'd grown up with. His hair is long and messy, and his shirt and jacket are worn. His beard is longer than I remember, and unkempt. He stares up at the sky, then glances down at me with a smug grin. "What's wrong? You look…weird."

"I've been thinking about a lot of things."

"Like what?" I try not to look at him, but I want him to know I'm listening. I wrap my arms around myself to stay warm, and I shrug when he glances back. "About the soldiers?"

"Are you really gonna marry some guy from Dauntless? Have you ever stopped to think how that would even work? Is Eric just gonna…. shove some papers at you and make everything work out in his favor?" Landon's look is heavy with disbelief, and a bit of mockery. "You think he wants you to marry him? He wants one thing and one thing only. Ask your mother."

"I'm not marrying him," I answer, and I speed up my walk a little. This Landon was okay, but he was slowly dipping into the one whose sole purpose was to have me as his wife. I try to stall, because I still want an answer about Tobias, and I definitely ignore the insult about my mother. "Why would you say that?"

"I hear things. See things. I know Eric has been coming around Amity for a while. He always seems to find you, and you always seem to find him. There's a rumor he's being pressured to find a wife. I say find a wife because no girl in Dauntless would willingly marry him."

"Who would pressure him into getting married? Have you ever been to Dauntless? It doesn't seem like they'd be the type to be married to anyone." I wonder if Landon had been injected, because his answers are not at all what I'm expecting. "I don't think you can marry someone from another faction. It doesn't work like that."

"Higher ups? His parents? Maybe the other leaders? Looks bad to have the leader of Dauntless single and whoring his way through the faction. Maybe they think it proves he's unstable. Maybe someone there is looking out for his reputation." Landon shrugs and kicks a rock. "Tobias said he always gets what he wants. First, it was power. He said Eric loves power. He thrives on having an entire faction beneath his fingertips. He demands something, and he gets it. Next, it was an army trained his way. Eric took it upon himself to oversee the training class for their last few rounds of soldiers. He wanted them to be brutal. Less thinking, more proactive. Just pure, killing machines."

"How do you know this? How does Tobias know this? Is he from there? I thought maybe he was, but he's really…"

"He doesn't trust us," Landon answers, but his tone is so calm that it sends a wave of fear up my spine. "He's gone back on his word more than once, and now, he's decided things are too violent. He said he promised to help build an army, not destroy a system."

"Well, it sounds like those things are mutually exclusive. Why have an army if you aren't going to use it?"

"Why are you hanging around some soldier if you aren't going to marry him? You think he gives a fuck about you as a person?" Landon smiles, and I remember that he'd threatened me and my family.

"I still don't want to marry you," I remind him, just in case he'd forgotten. "Maybe I will marry him. I'll ask next time he shows up."

He hasn't forgotten.

His eyes darken with the desire to pummel me into the ground.

"You know what, I don't think I'd want to marry you, either. He's made you mouthy. Questioning everything. Running around Amity late at night, acting like you know more than anyone. The Everly I knew was sweet. Quiet. Did what she was told." He shrugs, like these words should hurt, but they don't.

They only piss me off.

"What a life that Everly was living! How dare I want to be able to say what I'm thinking." I roll my eyes, and I realize my mistake a second too late.

He's been baiting me this whole time and my response is what he wants.

He moves quickly, shoving me right toward Carole's house. He pushes me again, further off the pathway and into the darkness, smiling when I trip over something in her yard. I fumble over whatever it is: a dead branch or bricks or whatever she's been working on, and my head hits the very same railing that Rylan hit his nose on. The horror is as quick as the pain, and I ignore both.

I stumble to my feet, but Landon is right there.

"You're so stupid. They did something to Colton. He said he can feel it, deep beneath his skin. Your boys showed up tonight, right to the very spot we were having our meeting. Sent everyone running and proving just why we have to take them down. You really trust those fuckers? You really think you're on the right side of things?"

He lunges for me again, similar to the way Colton did, and I have nowhere to go. Behind me, is a chicken coop, with wiring so high and flimsy it would be impossible to climb. In front of me, is Landon, grasping me with enough force that I yelp.

All of Eric's instruction goes right out the window.

I have no vantage point here. I can't even get my feet on the ground, and when they do hit the ground, it's because Landon has shoved me so hard my eyes shut. I try to kick him away from me, frantic and desperate, and my eyes burn when the effort is futile.

Behind the fence, a few chickens wake up. There is some clucking, mad at the late hour, and one wanders close by to see what the commotion is.

"You'd have been a shit wife if there ever was one." Landon is suddenly on top of me, and my head hits damp Earth. I struggle to get away, gasping his name and frantically trying to get him to realize what he's doing, but it's no use.

He holds me down by the throat, and I realize he's not even aware of what he's doing. His eyes have glazed over, hazy with rage, and he tightens his grip as I try to claw him free. "And to think I told your dad-"

He doesn't finish. There is a loud thunk, and then silence broken up by crickets chirping and the clucking of a chicken getting madder, all as Landon stops talking.

His eyes roll upward as he falls forward, onto me, and behind him, holding a shovel and looking furious, is May.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

May and my mother sit at the kitchen table, and everything is blurry. It's not blurry because I can't see or because Landon hurt me, but blurry because the lights are low so as not to wake anyone else, and they cast a glow that makes this feel like a nightmare.

"I'm fine," I answer for what seems like the millionth time, and I wonder when my home became a terrifying place to live. "I told you he threatened me. No one believed me. I shouldn't have walked with him but I didn't have a choice."

My mother nods, and she presses something to my neck. It's chillingly cold; she's wrapped up some ice in a bag, then twisted a kitchen towel around it, but all it does is burn.

"He was going to kill me," I keep talking, because Landon hadn't liked that. "He told me I would have been a shitty wife and then he shoved me into the railing and…" I stop, because getting worked up over it won't do any good. "Is he dead?"

"No, just knocked out. Jerry took care of him. I'll talk to Johanna in the morning. There is no place for him here, not after this." May watches me carefully, and I realize my hands are shaking. "She should go take a bath. Go to bed. Have Hank keep her home tomorrow. Maybe all weekend."

"She's supposed to go to the Leadership Dinner. She and Sophia were picked to go with Jerry," my mother answers softly, and for once, I realize she knows how important it is to me that I get to go. "Maybe you just stay home tomorrow. I don't think it's a terrible idea. I should look at your head, too. And your back. She said she fell over something in the yard."

"I watched her go right down. I got there as soon as I heard Landon talking," May stares at my mother for a second, not with a judgmental stare, but more with some lingering impatience. "Everly, does your head hurt?"

"Sort of," I wince when my mom stands up, and my eyes hurt when her fingers touch my hair. "I don't want stitches."

"It's bleeding," her answers are all quiet, and there's a tightness in them I don't recognize. "This is my fault. I never should have let this go on. I knew Landon would notice and…"

"Let what go on? Everly has told multiple people about Landon. No one has done shit," May's retort is immediate, as un-Amity like as they come, and so is the realization that this woman certainly isn't taking any peace serum. "What did you let go on, Eden?"

"The guy from Dauntless. He likes her," my mother pauses, and she presses gently. "One of their leaders. Landon noticed and he didn't like it. He came to me weeks ago and told me Everly was distracted by him and the guy was coming around only to see her. His name is Eric, and he's come back a few times to see Everly and I should have told her to… to…"

She can't finish her sentence but May does.

"To go with him? At least he wasn't trying to choke her."

"They tend to bring their danger with them. None of them are as good as they appear," my mother shakes her head, and she sighs. "I don't think you need stitches. Maybe just some ice on your head, too."

She steps away, and her expression is miserable enough that it hurts.

"I'm fine, I promise. It's just a scratch."

The lie is evident, because I can feel the knot on my head, and it hurts when I move my eyes.

May looks at me when my mother leaves, and she takes my hands in hers. "I told you, I don't take kindly to anyone hurting young girls around here. Landon messed with the wrong women today. You and me. I suggest you go wash the blood out of your hair, put on your favorite pajamas, call your…Eric and go to bed."

"How do you know I can call him?" I sit up straighter, whispering the words as I try to untangle the bloody strands of my hair apart. "How…"

"He's not that slick. He walked right by me the other day, crowing that he'd given you a phone and now he could call and talk to you whenever he wanted. His friends were mildly impressed, but they're probably so used to him talking they weren't listening. Did he give you a phone?"

I nod, and she looks happy.

"Good. Call him before you go to bed. I think you'll feel better."

"Okay," I agree, and I do feel better. Marginally, but it's something. "Thank you."

My mom returns with my father, and they both stand in the doorway, frowning. I smile at them, but I decide to take May's advice over anyone's.

"Anytime. You'll feel better in the morning. Promise." May lets go of me, and for the first time in a long time, I think that maybe, just maybe, Landon won't be coming back.

Thirty minutes later, I feel less better.

Eric answers his phone, sounding exhausted and snappy. His hello is dragged out, and in the background, there are people talking.

"Hello? Everly?" He repeats the word again, then once more, growing impatient and annoyed, and I have the feeling he's still in Erudite. There is a humming noise, steady and strong, then a clinking sound.

I try to say his name, but nothing comes out. It sticks in my throat, and the only thing I can do is try to croak out a hello.

He doesn't hear me.

He does hear whoever is in the room with him. I hear them, too. I hear Ashley very clearly tell him Jeanine is ready to see him, then ask who he is talking to.

He doesn't answer her, either. He says hello one more time, then exhales in annoyance.

This time, I'm the one to hang up.

He doesn't call back.

On Friday, when the sun starts to sink into the trees and the air drops a few degrees, I leave Amity.

I sit in the truck next to Jerry, and Sophia and Courtney sit behind us. They are giggling with excitement, and Jerry feigns being exasperated by all the noise. But he's beaming from ear to ear, his forehead neatly stitched up where Carole tried to run him over, and his shirt nicer than anything I'd ever seen him wear. He waits until we are ready, then starts the truck and waves at Johanna. This truck is one of the newer ones, cleaned up and speedier than the rest, and he cheerfully tells us we'll be at Dauntless in no time.

I wasn't as nervous as I thought I would be.

Eric hadn't called me since the night Landon attacked me, but I knew whatever he was doing was important. I put all my faith into believing what he'd said, and that in two weeks, I wouldn't have to be afraid of living in Amity.

I spent all of Thursday at home.

My mother made me cookies and tea. Zander laid in bed with me, quiet as a mouse, reading a book and occasionally asking me what a word was. I didn't mind him, and in a strange way, I was grateful he was there. I ate lunch with my mom, though her stare was so heavy with guilt that I almost couldn't finish my sandwich, and dinner with my father.

He was utterly distraught.

The attack had been brought to Johanna's attention. She came to my father, then Jerry. It all happened within the span of a few hours, but Johanna showed up right after dinner to inform me that Landon had been officially made factionless. I was promised I'd be safe, but safe was a relative word when you considered our forests were harboring a swarming, buzzing army just waiting to attack. I tried to believe her, and I tried even harder, when Jerry showed up to apologize.

He looked like he'd been put through the wringer. He sat down beside me, begged for me to forgive him for failing as a parent, and told me Landon had moved out weeks ago. He no longer spoke to Jerry, and the only time he came by was to ask for food or to scrounge through Jerry's belongings. I immediately told him it wasn't his fault, and he promised on his own life, that he'd make sure I had fun in Dauntless.

I had waited for my father to insist I stay home, but he didn't.

He kept quiet, even when my mother mentioned she had finished my dress and asked what time I needed to meet everyone to leave. Even Johanna was subdued. She gave me a few instructions on what would be expected of me during the dinner –socialize with the other guests, be polite, have a good time –then she slipped away after a murmured word of how sorry she was.

She looked sorry, but I had a feeling it wasn't for what she was apologizing for.

I spent Friday with the initiation class, and I failed the quiz on the general life span of our crops. I had answered with what I thought was right, but when Andy gently pointed out corn didn't typically last for more than a few seasons, I couldn't bring myself to care.

I could bring myself to have fun, because I was ready for a break from everything. I wanted to forget Landon trying to crack my head in two, and I wanted to forget Tobias, slipping through the Dome after confirming the factionless had the serum. I made a mental note to ask Eric if he knew a Tobias, and I also made a note to ask him to tell me if he'd seen Ashley.

She wasn't my business, but I got the same feeling from her that I got when I thought about Landon, and I was learning my gut instinct was right.

So I slid into the seat beside Jerry, buckled my seatbelt, and watched Amity fade away in the side mirror, until it was nothing but a blur of yellow sunlight and dark trees.

Dauntless is as dark and large as I imagined it would be.

I stand before the immense wooden doors, and I look around as a man explains where we are. We'd been guided to park around what appeared to be the back of the faction. Once there, a guy in uniform insisted he'd park the truck for us, and to follow CJ inside. CJ was young, just as enthusiastic as ever, and he waved us in through a large bay of trucks. I recognized a few, all grey and bearing the Dauntless logo, and I tried to play it off like I hadn't sat in one before.

We were stopped once we reached a large set of stairs and turned over to someone named Kevin. He led us through a dimly lit hallway, up a jagged set of rocky steps, and instructed us to walk carefully. He was quieter, but he let us stop to look at things, and it was obvious he was proud of his faction.

It was like no place I'd ever been before.

It was freezing. The walls were an odd combination of pure, raw rock, as though someone had forged Dauntless with their bare hands, and slick, icy marble. In some spots, I could see sky high openings that cracked to let daylight in, and in some places, there were caves so deep and dark they appeared endless.

I forced myself to take it all in, touching the sharper parts of the wall with my fingers, and grinning when Jerry joked Dauntless was only dangerous because you'd trip and kill yourself when you fell into the wall. He then looked horrified at his own words, and he continued to look horrified until I promised him I wasn't offended.

He hadn't shoved me into anything.

I stuck close by him, following the soldier in front of us and wondering where we were going. We kept walking, so deep into the faction it felt like a trick, but it wasn't.

Eventually, we stop in front of two huge doors. A man in a dark suit loudly greets us. He tells us his name is Max, and his stare sweeps over all of us. To the side of him is a lady staring us down intensely, and her grey hair is spiked up in a severe manner. She doesn't smile, but she does look at me so long that I wonder if she's going to tell me there's been a mistake, and we can't eat dinner here.

It doesn't happen.

Max opens the doors, heavy and slow and decorated with an elaborate carving, to reveal the last thing one would expect: a ballroom set up for a dinner.

It's the exact opposite of the Dome. There are no high windows or any windows at all; the room is large and concrete. The tables are long and black, set up to create a U shape. The chairs are black, and the cloth running along the tables is white. Each one has a place setting, a name card, and candles. Lots of candles, all burning and varying heights, and a few bunches of dark flowers. Above the tables are light fixtures made of metal and brass, bent into intricate shapes and dimly lit.

There are a few people sitting, but most are milling around, talking and accepting drinks from the servers.

I try to look at everything all at once.

The room extends back further than I can see, and there's another room where the servers are coming in and out. They stop by each guest and pause to ask if they want anything, and I recognize a few of the people they are serving.

Jack Kang stands talking with a woman from Abnegation. I know who he is, and I make an assumption of who the woman is based off her simple, grey dress. Her hair is pinned back at the base of her neck, and her shoes are plain. She smiles when he gestures wildly, and she very graciously accepts a glass of water from the server.

There are others.

Harrison, wearing a very sharp black jacket, but a pink bow tie. His hair is combed straight back, and he's watching the spectacle unfold with an air of indifference. He barely looks up when a server stops by him, and he takes not one, but three of the drinks, then returns to observing the room.

In front of Harrison is Jeanine, looking sharp and out of place, and visibly uncomfortable. She nods at a few who wander past, some pausing to greet her, but no one wanting to talk for long. Her blonde hair is severe, cut to her jaw and stiff looking, and it's an odd sight against her blue dress. She stands with a few others from Erudite, and I can only assume they work with her. None look thrilled to be here, but they stare at everything, and occasionally, one touches something.

The room is full of other guests, and most have brought someone with them. Courtney sticks by me as we walk in, and Sophia sticks close to Jerry. He hasn't brought anyone, and Sophia hadn't asked anyone either. She'd thought about asking someone, but we figured it would be better with just us and Jerry. He was entertaining, and with what had happened the other night, more than determined to make sure we had fun.

I pass a few members from Dauntless, none recognizable to me, until I reach our seats. I find our names on the place cards, elegantly written in scrolling black lettering, and when I look up, I find Rylan staring at me from across the table.

His expression is priceless, almost like he's seen a ghost.

"Everly?" Rylan asks incredulously.

He's incredibly dressed up. He's taken the formal dress code and run with it. His suit is so dark it hurts my eyes, his shoes are shiny, and his bow tie is crooked. He stares for another second, then blinks.

"Holy shit." Rylan cocks his head to the side, and his hair is gloriously long. It falls further down his suit than I would have guessed, and he narrows his eyes. "Is that really you? Are you really here in Dauntless?"

"Hi, it is me!" I grin at him, and he looks stunned. "You didn't know I was going to be here? I sent in my RSVP."

"No!" Rylan exclaims, and his expression is pure joy. "The invites go to Linda. She set all this up. I'm sitting over there," he pauses to point across the room. "But now I might move my seat."

"You can't move your seat. Max said he worked hard on the seating assignments and not to fuck with them. Why do you want to move? Who are you…" Jason looks up from his phone, and when he looks to see who Rylan is talking to, he nearly drops it. "Oh shit. Oh shit, code E. Does Eric know she's here?"

"What is a code E?" I ask, and Sophia eyes them warily.

"Yeah, what's that? Is there a fire? Should we be worried? We don't even know how to get out of here?"

"A code E is any time we think Eric might pop a blood vessel. He's been a real joy lately, but seeing you should improve his mood greatly," Jason puts his phone in his suit pocket and grins. He's got the same suit on as Rylan, but his hair is parted to the side. "Do you want to meet my girlfriend? She's here, too."

"His non-fiancée who he'll never marry," Rylan laughs. "MY girlfriend is here as well. She's more fun than Meghan."

"No, she isn't," Jason ignores Rylan's snickering. He glances around the room, then looks concerned. "Did you see Eric? I was going to say we should go find him but he's gone. He was over there."

"I haven't," I answer, and I glance around, trying to find him. Almost everyone is dressed in black, so it's hard to tell them apart. "That's okay. I'll find him."

"I'm sure he'll find you," Rylan declares, and his eyes have a spark of mischief to them. "Actually, I think he already has."

Rylan points again, not even bothering trying to be subtle, and he's right.

There, standing beside a woman dressed in all black, is Eric.

His gaze is glued to me, piercing and hot, and unwavering.

It doesn't budge an inch, not even when Jeanine and Ashley walk up to him. Ashley glances around, and with a very pleased look on her face, she reaches for his arm. He looks down at her hand on his bicep, but before he can react, someone announces it's time to take our seats.

The dinner runs on a shockingly strict schedule.

I expected Dauntless to be a little less formal and maybe more all over the place, but I barely sit down before someone drops off a plate of salad in front of me. It's fancy looking but I find it funny; it's arranged elegantly, but the lettuce clearly came from the Amity faction, and so did the rest of it. The salad dressing is something I can't pronounce, and someone fills my glass with wine. Jerry sits next to me, and he offers to go grab us something else if we don't want the wine.

"I don't want you to get sick, but if you want that, go for it. Just drink it slowly or your head will be spinning," he warns, but he willingly accepts a generous amount of wine into his own glass.

"This is SO fun," Sophia exclaims, and she looks around at everything with a sense of awe. "I'm so glad we put our names in. I would have died if I had to stay home and eat hummus again."

"There's nothing wrong with hummus!" Jerry exclaims, and he looks insulted. "I just made a whole batch of roasted bell pepper hummus. You should try it. I made too much for just me."

He leans back to talk around me, arguing about the benefits of hummus, and I take a bite of the salad. When I look up, I make the mistake of looking across from me, and it's hard to look away.

Eric sits with the people from Dauntless, but they aren't Jason or Rylan. They include the woman in the black dress, and she's scowling more than him. Next to him is Jeremy, and every so often, Jeremy looks my way. He stares for a moment, but it's gone when a blonde girl comes to sit beside him. I recognize her from one of the pictures, but in person, she's startling unhappy. Her blonde hair is pretty, sort of pinned up and fancy looking, but her smile is forced. She glances at Eric a few times, and she smiles less when he looks at her.

Mostly, he looks at me.

I can feel his stare on my exposed skin, and I can feel the way it stops in certain places. I'm sure the dress was a surprise, because I had been shocked, too.

My mother had made something so not Amity-like that I wasn't sure it was for me. It is white, but not the dress I was expecting. The top is fitted. The sleeves end above my wrists, and the skirt is tight in comparison to the billowy skirts she usually chose. The back is open, completely exposing the fact that I have no tan and the hint of a nice bruise from being thrown to the ground, but I can't see it. The front isn't exceptionally high but fairly low cut, and I'd worked hard to arrange my hair to the side.

Landon had left a lovely print of his rage on my skin, and I hated it. I hated the visual reminder of who he was, and I'd tried to cover it up. I spent twenty minutes curling my hair, then braided it to the side, loosened the braid, and tied the end. My mother pinned a few barrettes in there, not flowers, and all in all, I could possibly pass for someone from another faction.

I hadn't worn high shoes, for May warned me that Dauntless was hard to walk in, but the most formal pair I had.

Right before it was time to leave, Holly and Paisley barged in and insisted I wear some makeup. I didn't want any, but they were so desperate to help me get ready that I agreed. I let them apply the bare minimum, thanked them, and was surprised by the results.

I'd stared at myself in the mirror for a while, and I decided maybe Landon was right. I might not have had the qualities he wanted in a wife, or whoever was going to make his dinner, but I did look pretty.

I think Eric thought so, too.

His eyes are dark.

They stay on me, moving from my eyes, to my lips, to the sliver of shoulder that he could see. Every so often, he leaned away from the table. He scooted his chair back, letting the woman and Jeremy argue in front of him, but he watched me while he ate his salad. He doesn't smile, doesn't blink, and he barely looks up when Jeremy trips trying to get up.

He finally stands up when I do, and I'm not the only one who notices.

A few seats away, staring with sheer, frantic desperation, Ashley stands up as well.

"I just need to ask you a few questions."

Rylan finds me first.

I had left the bathroom before Ashley could catch up to me. She'd watched me for most of the dinner, stuck in between Jeanine and some guy. None of them looked like they were in the mood to celebrate, especially her. Her stare went back and forth between Eric and me, and she was so busy trying to glare at me, she missed when they took her salad plate away before she'd taken a single bite.

I smiled at her.

I figured if she did talk, at least I could ask how Carole was.

I never got the chance. She followed me in, her gaze sharp and hot and mean, but ultimately, she never got too close. Her own dress was beautiful and expensive, but it looked like she was uncomfortable in it. It was too tight, stretched in a way that made me look less polished, and she knew it. She scowled when I walked past her, and I bet she'd be scowling now.

I was hoping to run into Eric. I wanted to tell him everything I knew in hopes that he had a solution or he'd thought of a way out. I wanted to tell him all of it: that someone named Tobias was helping, that Evelyn had the stolen serum, that they were still living in our woods, and that Landon was now officially factionless, and none of this bode well for my future. I was in so deep, I was going to drown before I could ever get out of Amity.

I rehearse my concerns in my head, but I'm caught off guard when Rylan pulls me to the side and looks around to make sure no one can hear him.

"Are you taking anything? Vitamins, prescription medication?"

"No," I watch his face carefully, and my eyebrows knit inward. "Am I supposed to be?"

"Are you up to date on your vaccinations? Birth control? Have you traveled out of your faction in the last thirty days?" He blocks someone from coming close by, and the person refuses to give up. I catch a flash of dark hair, and her eyes lock on mine when she peers over his shoulder. She immediately smiles, and I wonder if this is Christina. "Have you ever been bitten by a squirrel? Chicken? Goat? Carole?"

"Um…no, I haven't. I did go to Erudite with Eric," I pause when Rylan raises an eyebrow, and I smile at Christina. "Is this your girlfriend? Can I meet her?"

He whips his head around and nods his head furiously. "CHRIS! FINE. SHE'LL MEET YOU NOW." He stops his yelling when she comes back, and then he informs her, in a normal tone, she doesn't have long. "Eric will be back any second. Tell her your name, how old you are, how tall you are, and your five favorite things, starting with me as number one. Go."

She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, but she struggles to fight off her grin.

"One, Eric can wait two fucking minutes. Two, she doesn't care about any of that stuff. I'm Christina, and I'm assuming you're Everly, and I have been waiting weeks to meet you. You're all Rylan can talk about. I bet Eric almost fell out of his chair when you showed up!" Christina answers, and I immediately like her. She's warm and nice, and she steps in between Rylan and me and ignores his warning to hurry. "Rylan told me Eric has it bad for some girl in Amity and the other day, he finally told me your name. You're way prettier than I thought you'd be. He tried to describe you and he made you sound…interesting."

"Oh, uh, thank you?" I sound surprised, and she reaches out to touch the barrette in my hair. She admires it, then looks back at Rylan and nods in approval.

"I like her. She's too sweet looking for Eric, but you can explain that later," she calls this out over her shoulder, then turns back to me. "Sorry, I just could not figure out why he was going to Amity so much. Or why Rylan had to go. Every day they were heading there. This explains everything."

"I did see them a lot. But Rylan told me about you when he came for dinner. He spoke really highly of you."

"He better have. I'll tell you the real truth, he loves Amity. He probably should have picked Amity, though I don't know if they could handle him." She looks back at him, and he's still beaming. "You should have picked Dauntless. They said you're awfully brave, especially considering Eric is about to profess his undying love. Are you really only eighteen?"

"For now," I point out, and she approves of this response. "Do you like it here? It's very…dark."

"It is. Underground living is not really my thing, but I hated Candor and I loathed the idea of living in grey."

"She's also allergic to grass sooooo…." Rylan offers up, and she rolls her eyes at him. "Dauntless was the best choice for her. Shit. Wrap it up. We have to go."

"Already?" Christina looks annoyed, and he tries to pull her away.

"Yep. Bye Everly. It was great seeing you. Don't let Arlene know you haven't had your shots yet."

"It's really nice to meet you," I tell her, and they both look over me, trying not to laugh. "Wait! What shots? What's wrong? Am I supposed to go sit back down?"

"No," Christina answers, and her smile stretches even wider. "Just…enjoy your night and call me anytime. Rylan will give you my number. I'd love to come visit. I heard you have all kinds of animals there. It's my dream to see some of them."

"You can come visit!" I like this idea, and it might be fun to have both of them over. "I don't know my phone number, but I think Rylan has it so…" I pause when she steps back, and her gaze moves upward.

"I'll get your number. Call me if you have time," she whispers furiously, and Rylan wins. They stumble away, nearly taking out a server, and then they're gone.

I feel someone stop behind me, and the low voice is familiar.

"Everly."

I don't have to turn around to know who it belongs to.

One large, warm hand finds mine, and Eric tugs on my hand to follow him.

"What are you doing here?"

He's warm.

He took hold of my hand the second he could, his grip tighter than ever, and guided me to the large doors. I paused so he could say hello to a few people by the doors, but he kept going. He took me outside them, staying a step behind me, and his lips parted when I looked up at him.

He is handsome as ever.

He might have been out of his uniform, but this could easily have doubled as one. It's black, inky and slick and very formal, and his bow tie is the same as Jason and Rylan's. His hair is combed back, just like in the picture of him Rylan had left on the phone, and his face is freshly shaved. His skin is perfectly smooth, so clean it accentuates the sharpness of his jaw, and the severity of his hair.

"What happened to you?"

Eric is also incredibly observant. He doesn't give me a chance to answer, because his hands are on me, coaxing the white material out of the way. I know exactly when he sees the bruise, because the tensing of his entire body is immediate.

"Who did this?"

"Landon," I answer, and his jaw is so tight I expect it to break apart. "I tried to call you but you were…um, I think in Erudite.."

His lips part open.

The action is quick, but it's impossible to miss that he's bothered by my words. "I couldn't…I was with Jeanine. I couldn't talk. I ran into some issues there and they aren't going away as easily as I'd hoped."

I stare up at him and he stares down at me.

"Yeah, um, well same. I ran into Landon the other night and I thought things were alright. He walked with me for a while, but he got mad and he just…he pushed me into the chicken coop where Rylan hit his nose, and when he could, he knocked me to the ground. I tried to fight him off, but…I couldn't. May hit him in the head with a shovel. I called you that night but you just kept saying hello and I'm pretty sure Ashley was there." I stop talking because he's staring.

His expression darkens as he presses one hand to my throat. His palm is bigger than Landon's, but much softer. The touch is careful as he curls his fingers in and his pressure is the exact opposite of Landon trying to squeeze the life out of me. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you anywhere else?"

"I hit my back. And my head." I shrug, and he doesn't like this. He drops his hands away to grab me, crushing me against his chest. It's not out of his undying love, like Christina thought, but a dull rage that I can feel. One of his hands tangles in my hair, and he stays there, forcing himself to breathe slowly.

"Did Johanna do anything about him?"

"They made him factionless. Johanna came and told me it'll be better now, and I'll be safe…but…but…I was waiting to talk to you. There's so much more."

He nods.

He doesn't let go of me, but he does drop his head down, and eventually, he loosens his grip to pull back.

His eyes search mine, and when I smile, sort of wobbly over seeing both him and Ashley in the same room together, he very lowly informs me he wants to show me something.

His apartment is much larger than what I pictured.

The whole faction is.

Eric led me up a set of stairs, down a hallway, and down a dimly lit corridor. I tried to imagine living here, and if it were possible to memorize the maze-like layout we were walking through. Every time I thought we'd reached our destination, he kept going, pressing on through a large open space with high ceilings, all the way through to a set of metal doors. He pushed a button that lit up, and I knew I looked like a moron when they dinged, then slid open. He ushered me inside, and one more pushed button later, the doors opened to another hallway. I followed his lead, and I was surprised at how few doors there were on this floor. I guessed they were where people lived, but there weren't many.

He stopped at one toward the end, fumbled with a card, and with one quick glance in my direction, he held the door open for me.

I stepped inside and found myself immersed right into the world of Eric.

The layout was impressive. He had a large kitchen, with shiny high-tech appliances that blinked and gleamed once he flipped the lights on. His living room was expansive, with dark couches, a large screen mounted on the wall opposite them, and bookshelves. I was taken back by how many he had, and the number of books that were on them. They were neatly organized by height and color, and most were dark. There was a coffee table, a few files thrown on top, a single, grey blanket, and plenty of space.

The other side has a dining room, but no real dining table, and it looks oddly unfinished. The hallway extends further than I can see, but the multiple doors must be his office, and his bedroom.

"Come here."

Eric gestures for me to follow him, and I do.

Without question.

My only hesitation is my judgement is clouded by my curiosity. I want to see what's in all the rooms, and I very badly want to open all the doors. But everything is clean, so neat and orderly that there's no way anyone else lives here, and I'm afraid to touch anything.

But I walk down the hallway, following his dark jacket and stiff posture, and it takes me a moment to realize we're going to his bedroom. Once again, his whole life is right before my very eyes, and incredibly telling.

I take everything in. I try to glance around like I'm not desperate to see where he sleeps, but I am. His bed is larger than any I've ever seen, and the wall it's pushed up against is black. The bedding is dark, the pillows are dark, and the nightstands are dark. His dresser sits on the opposite wall, and above it is another screen. There's a closet, with the doors tightly shut, and a door leading to the bathroom. He's left the light on, and from just the right spot, I catch a glimpse of the spacious bathtub, a large shower, and the oversized vanity.

This apartment is the very definition of him. It feels powerful to be in here, like I've walked into a secret lair that no one else has, and it's very telling about who he is.

"Your home is really nice," I say this while he fumbles with something on the dresser, and he looks up in surprise. "It's huge."

"It's alright," he shrugs. "It's a Leaders' apartment. I'm required to live here. The others are much smaller."

"Where do the initiates stay?" I walk closer to his bed, and I touch the comforter. It's the opposite of mine, black and cold, and it feels airy. My guess is it's not at all warm but would be cool against your skin. "Do they get apartments?"

"No. They stay far underground, in a shared room. They have bunk beds. The apartments are a reward once they're done. Most share with a roommate, but some get lucky and don't." He has something in his hands, and the screen is lit up. He taps it impatiently while he walks over to me and sits down on the bed. "I want you to look at this. Tell me if you recognize anything."

He shows me the screen, and there, on the map, is a section of forest. It's thick and dense, but every time he touches it, it becomes clearer and clearer. Eventually, it focuses on a group of people, and right in the middle of them is me.

I stare at myself, an expression of grainy horror on my face, as Evelyn talks to me.

"It's a digitally enhanced image, snapped from one of the cameras minutes before it went down. We couldn't get much closer, or zoom in anymore, so Harrison worked to clear it up. We have a team working to pinpoint the area. The factionless have moved since this picture. We have where Colton is now, but I wanted to ask you about this woman."

"How did you…I thought there were no cameras?" I stare at Evelyn, and it's clear she thinks she's got me. She looks pleased and happy, and all too smug as she holds onto my arm. "That's Evelyn. She's their leader."

I stare at the screenshot, and when I look up at Eric, he's staring at me. He nods, and I look back at the picture.

"Is this the only shot?"

"Yeah. The camera was functioning, a good distance away, but it went down at some point. When I had the footage pulled from that area to see if we could salvage anything, I learned it had been erased. All of it. Like it never existed. Someone here deleted it, but they missed these few seconds. It was enough for us to work with."

I look at the shot again, and really, the only thing in focus is Evelyn and me. I can sort of make out Sophia, but she's so blurry she could be anyone. The people closer to us are members of her army, but I don't know any of them. My heart soars at the thought that this could be the proof they need to arrest her, but it's too low quality, even for me.

"Why did Landon attack you? Harrison talked to him the other day. He warned him to stay away from you. I'm surprised he didn't."

"When?" I look right at Eric, and he tosses the tablet onto the bed. "Harrison talked to him?"

He nods, and he stretches his hands out to take hold of me. I move closer willingly, stepping between his legs. His shoes are not the heavy boots I'm used to seeing, but a slick pair of shiny dress shoes that look odd on him.

"He's been in and out of the faction. Harrison has a personal interest in it, and as one of the higher-ranking leaders, he can do as he pleases."

"Does he outrank you?" I touch his jacket, and the collar is soft and heavy. Eric's answer is a reluctantly sour yes, and it makes me smile. "You don't like that, do you?"

"He has some questionable methods, but…for the most part, he's very knowledgeable." Eric's hands slide to my back, and once they touch the bare skin, he pulls me closer. "Are you sure you're alright? Do you need to see a nurse?"

"I'm fine. My mom gave me some tea and cookies. I just…I don't really want to die in Amity," I answer honestly, watching his face closely. "I don't want to feel afraid walking around or wonder if today is the day Evelyn's army attacks. But I don't know how to stop all that. Or how I can fix any of it."

"You don't. It's not your job to keep your faction safe. It's ours," Eric's eyes stay on mine, and I chew on my lip when he lets me push the jacket off him. He lets go only to shrug it off, and when the fabric falls to the bed, his hands return to me. "I'm going to guess he's more dangerous without a faction than with one?"

I nod, and I touch the bow tie. I've never seen one in my life, and it takes a second of struggling to unhook it. Eric doesn't move during any of this, he simply lets me take off the tie, and he barely moves when my fingers slide to the button on his shirt. Unlike when Ashley touched him, he seems fine with my hands on him.

Until I look right into his eyes.

"How many times have you slept with Ashley?"

Eric doesn't like this. His face flashes with pure and utter annoyance, but he downplays it immediately. His inhale is slow. He presses his fingers to my spine, then works them higher, one by one, until he touches my shoulder blades.

"Everly…"

"Just tell me. She's here. I'm sure she's looking for you. Does she know where you live?" I unbutton the top button, and once it slides through, I move to the second. I don't know why I've chosen to try and undress him, but it's keeping me busy, and he's certainly not protesting. "I didn't know where you live. Does she? Is she going to knock on the door?"

"I've known her a long time," he answers, and there's a low warning in his tone. "Telling you about her isn't going to do any good. You want an exact number? Why? Are you gonna tell me how many times you slept with Landon?"

"I didn't," I get halfway down his shirt, and Eric is much stronger than I imagined. His chest is well defined, and warm beneath my fingertips. "I never slept with him. Or anyone. I think he thought I would marry him once I was done with my initiation, and he was hoping things would go further then."

Eric's answer is to blink. A thousand thoughts must be racing through his mind, and I watch them flash across his face. They're all over the place, and he struggles to keep his expression neutral.

But he fails.

I can see all of them: surprise, approval, lust, want. A need that I can feel, especially when my hands press against his bare skin. He exhales when I look right at him, and his defense is expected because he knows what's coming.

"Did you love her?"

"No." His answer is rough, and he yanks me forward. There's an awkwardness with this skirt, and his solution is to pull it up so I can sit on his leg. "I never cared what happens to her. I've done everything I can to let her know that." He pauses, and one hand moves my hair away. He looks at the mark on my neck, and then his stare flies back up to me. "I shouldn't care what happens to you. You're an entire faction away. You attract danger with every step you take. And yet, every night, I wait to see if you've called. I wait to make sure that nothing has happened."

Confession number four might be my favorite.

It's oddly honest, such a simple thing, that he'd want to stay in contact. He could easily have anyone here. I saw the way a few of the girls looked at him, even though they were here as guests from their own factions. I saw Ashley's pleading stare tossed in his direction, hoping he'd pick her. His attention is like a reward, and I would bet anything her perfect nails are digging into her palms as she realizes Eric hasn't returned.

"Me too," I confess right back at him, but he doesn't smile.

He leans back, only to discard his shirt without breaking his stare.

"You really should go back downstairs. I told you two weeks," he informs me, and he shifts on the bed. His legs spread wider, and his hands move to my dress. They move past the open back, then up to my shoulders. I feel the fabric shift, and his eyes darken when it falls the way he wants it to. His touch is slow, precise and exact, and his eyes move from mine, to the skin he's exposing inch by inch. "I promised I wouldn't hurt you…"

He pauses when both the shoulders are down as far as they can go. I know what he's trying to do, and I don't want him to stop.

I wiggle forward slightly, and I reach around to pull the back of the dress up. It doesn't zip or tie, and I have to work to pull it up to my waist. He watches me reach for the pooled fabric, white and light and startling soft, and he helps me pull it up over my head. It's tossed to the side, landing atop his jacket in a messy pile, but his stare is only on me.

His hands return to my skin, hot and warm and pressing until his palms are splayed out, and he waits for my answer.

I touch his chest with both of my hands, feeling the strong and steady beat of his heart, then I slide my arms around his neck. I lean in closer, until my face is inches from his, and one of his hands moves to grasp the back of my head when I answer.

"Then don't."


	16. The Real Eric Coulter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mature content. If you are sensitive at all, please skip the entire first section :) The story is rated appropriately, but just in case, here's your warning!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Bamberlee for editing!

He pulls me closer.

Eric is warm and solid; strong and well defined by hours of working out, and I hadn't realized he would seem so large without his shirt on. He's pale against the darkness of his bedroom, his skin hidden beneath the heavy layers of his uniform, far different than the farmers who spent hours beneath the sun. His chest is broad, though his deceptively fragile collarbone spans across to each shoulder, and he watches me silently as my fingers trail along them. Every inhale and exhale is measured and even, but ultimately, Eric lets me observe him.

He's like nothing I've ever seen before.

The rest of him is waves of hard-earned muscle, born from hours of precise discipline, and not the lean figure that resulted from raising crops and having an occasional drink around a bonfire. I feel his thighs tense as I steady myself, and he spreads them wider so I don't fall.

"Everly…"

I'm in no hurry. After seeing him dressed, the dark clothes revealing only the barest hints of him –always the darkest and most intimidating flashes – I don't want him to move. I want to keep staring, figuring out how the black blocks on his throat are a permanent mark, or how he's let someone slide a needle through the skin above his eyes. Even his ear lobes, stretched to host the large black rings, are fascinating. The violence it took to pierce one's skin is fitting here, and I wonder if it felt good. Powerful. Exciting.

Sort of like him, unconsciously drawing me closer, until my hips face his and I can feel every single moment in itself. One of his hands stays on the back of my head, and he juts his chin out to stare at me. His gaze takes in everything, and I imagine anyone else would flinch.

I don't move. I sit on his lap like it's my rightful place, like I have no reason to sit anywhere else. He sits with his spine straight, holding onto the allusion of the soldier he is, and to anyone else, he would look like Eric –merciless and unyielding.

But beneath me, he looks human.

His eyes darken as I lean closer and his fingers flex to fix the space between us.

"You should go back to the dinner, Amity…"

Eric says the words before his mouth captures mine, and there is absolutely no command behind them. He doesn't want me to leave any more than I want to, but I understand what he's saying.

Somewhere, in this very faction, the other leaders and guests are about to eat dinner. The celebration is billed as a way to unite the factions and lessen the fear of the factionless. Our presence is an important part on both sides; him as a leader, me as a representative from Amity. At some point, someone would notice Eric and I hadn't returned, or maybe they wouldn't.

Maybe they'd carry on with their evening, moving onto dessert and drinks, and they'd leave feeling like they'd made a difference. Like they had united the factions through fancy, head spinning cocktails and a generous meal prepared for them. Even the ones from Abnegation would indulge for just a moment, because they had to so they wouldn't appear rude, just like I was about to indulge in this.

Being alone with Eric, without the threat of anyone coming between us, giving me the opportunity to stake my claim. I had spent weeks thinking about him, unraveling the clues of how he felt like it was my own personal mystery, until I was fairly sure I had him figured out.

I could be wrong, and every so often something small insisted I was, but I don't think I am.

"Now?" I mumble, and he smirks. His lips are soft and cold, and lusher than I remember. Our time at the market had been different –frantic and hurried and all too brief –and this is the exact opposite. He's not in a hurry, but there's still an air of desperate finality to all this. "Should I go back there now? Do I tell them-"

"No."

He stands up, taking me with him, only to turn and drop me right onto his bed. I watch his face as he undoes his belt, and once he pulls it free, he reaches for his pants. His fingers still at the button of the dressy fabric, but he's focused on me.

"There's nothing to tell anyone," he announces, and he kicks the pants off.

Eric stands at the end of his bed with his eyes on me. I should feel exposed with my dress long gone, but I'm not. His stare is the same as mine, grazing up and down with a slowness I wouldn't expect from him, but an impatience that I do. He takes a single step toward the bed, and before I can realize what he's doing, he's over me.

"I told you two weeks, but no more. I'm not putting the dress back on you."

Eric murmurs the words, but this is where the gentleness ends. It's like he's been driven mad by what's happened –our chance encounter, then weeks of back and forth until it was impossible not to end up like this – and he's everywhere. His lips crash into mine, rough and demanding but patient as I catch on, and he says my name roughly. Everly, groaned deeply from his very being, pressed against my cheek. My throat. My jaw, tilted up as his body covers mine, and I am completely encompassed by him.

"Eric."

His teeth scrape my skin, biting marks over Landon's and lustily claiming the pale expanse as his own. I gasp his name when he pushes himself against my leg, his erection taking me by surprise. I wasn't at all naïve to where this was going, or how quickly it was, but I'd never done anything like this. The sensation is new to me, sending a wave of warm desire through me like I've never felt before. Every single inch of me feels alive, burning at the thought of him continuing, sparking at the realization that he wanted this with me.

"Everly," he answers, catching my lip between his, and pushing me further into his pillows. My head sinks into the darkness, and I turn my face to the side when he kisses my cheek. I close my eyes when his hand finds mine, and he presses it up high, holding it there for a heartbeat.

"You are pretty." Eric announces, and my eyes open to look up at him. He's staring down in a daze, the sharpness of his stare softened, but that's it. The rest of him is taut, muscles pulled tight and tense, and he drops his head down to kiss me.

The act is quick, clearly not something he prefers, because he looks surprised at himself. I would imagine he didn't kiss very often; it felt secretive, too gentle and docile for him, when his whole body ached to do more than touch his mouth to mine.

It's clear he's far more experienced, though. His hands move quickly, greedily touching wherever he can. I try to figure out what he's doing next, then I don't.

"Too pretty," he hisses when I untangle my hand from his, and I reach for him. I loop my arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of me, until I can't breathe. He's solid and heavy, but there's a sense of overwhelming safeness with him. It rises up along with my legs. They close around him, desperate to keep him in place, liking how all this feels.

I touch all of him, anything I can grasp.

My fingers run through his hair, working through the longer pieces and undoing his perfect part. I skim down his neck, over his shoulders, and down his back. He keeps his mouth on my neck, sucking and biting wherever he pleases, and occasionally grunting my name. When I get to his lower back, my fingers grazing the waistband of his boxer briefs, he groans. His hips crush mine, rocking in search of friction, and he's hard.

I can feel him, pressing against my leg, unconsciously shoving himself closer.

I had never slept with anyone before, or even thought about why I would want to. My days were filled with distractions, all kinds of reasons that left me exhausted and uninterested in anyone, until now.

Now, I wanted him.

I wanted him just like this, slowly losing his patience for waiting a second longer.

"You like this?" he mutters, and his hands leave my hair. One skims down my neck, over my throat, pausing for a moment. He continues down my sternum, to cup my breast, and he sinks against me even further. His palm is warm, as rough as it was when he held my hand, and strong. My eyes shut on their own when he squeezes his hand, and the feeling is surprisingly good. I smile lazily, opening my eyes when he nudges me, and his exploration doesn't stop there. His thumb grazes over my nipple, and he watches my face to gauge my reaction.

He's done almost nothing other than kiss me, and take off my dress, but my brain is already a warm mess of lust.

"You just admitted you do think I'm pretty," I try to form a coherent sentence, because I hated that Landon had told me the only reason anyone would ever like me was my looks. The times I felt pretty were fleeting but splayed out beneath Eric is definitely one of them. "This isn't just because I said you should ambush Colton, is it?"

Eric laughs loudly. It's his true laugh, rare and throaty, and he shakes his head.

"That's just one of the reasons I like you. Always willing to help," he smirks, and it falters when I slide my fingers beneath the waistband. I watch his eyes darken at the touch, and I like his expression. His skin is warm, and he waits to see what I'll do. "What are you planning Amity? You gonna take them off? You gonna prove how brave you really are?"

He grins at the very thought, and in that moment, I know Ashley rarely got to touch him. She might have slept with him, but it wasn't like this. I can tell by the way he stares, his gaze intense as he waits to see what happens, and his expression falters again when I tug the fabric down.

I pull them down right as he finishes talking, and he doesn't look away. I can only move them down so far, thanks to the awkward angle, but I give it my best shot.

He seems to appreciate it.

His smile is tight, but smug. Eric reaches down to take them off completely, growling when they stick between his feet, and he pulls back to kick them off. I dislike the feeling of him away from me, the cold air squeezing between us, and I sit up to be closer. I'm rewarded with the sight of him completely naked, and I have to admit, it's impressive.

"Um…"

My train of thought derails completely as I stare, wondering how on Earth I'd never thought of doing this sooner. He stares back at me, faint disbelief crossing his face, then he smiles. He lunges at my waist, and my own underwear is his next victim. They are similar to the ones he'd touched before at the market, and he knows this. He tears the soft fabric away before I can utter his name, and then he covers my body with his.

There is nothing between us.

Just him, his bare legs tangled with mine, and his hands everywhere. They skim my sides, over my ribcage, down to my hip bones, and along the top of my thighs. I move my legs wider, wiggling away and giggling when his fingers hit a particularly ticklish spot, and he snarls when my hands touch his ass. I slide my hands over him, digging my fingers in to urge him closer, and it's as if a switch is flipped.

Eric reacts immediately, knocking my hands away and slipping his own between my legs.

Up until this point, I had always thought having sex would be a very basic situation. I knew it could result in a thousand children. Sophia claimed it was enjoyable, though I wasn't sure who she'd even be having sex with. Courtney claimed it was messy, and then shook her head and looked at me sympathetically at the unspoken knowledge that it was likely Landon would be who I ended up sleeping with. My mother, in the world's least informative and most awkward parenting moment ever, told me the most important part of all, was that I was with someone I trusted. I had groaned and told her to go away, but she meant well.

I trusted Eric, despite every reason not to.

Which is why, when his fingers go right where I want them to, to the most sensitive spot begging for his touch, I shove my hips up at him. I blurt out his name as he strokes through slick wetness, and I had no clue it could feel like this.

He must. He's impatiently patient.

He quickly figures out what I like, and it only takes a few minutes before everything starts to feel too good. I'm only able to gasp his name, especially when he circles my clit, over and over, pressing gradually harder until my legs are squeezing and closing to urge him on. He obliges by sliding a finger inside me, then another, and I nearly come right then and there. The sensation evokes all kinds of sighs and gasps, and I'd normally be mortified.

Instead, I just want him to keep going.

"You really never did anything with Landon? Ever?"

Eric's words crack into my thoughts as he curls his fingers, and I blearily gaze up at him. He's still over me, but on his side, and he slows down as he waits for me to answer.

"No," I groan, both in response and when he pulls his hand away. The feeling of loss is immediate, but he shifts to kiss me. I whimper when his lips touch mine, because everything is now amplified. The action feels a thousand times more intense, and I blindly reach for him. I touch his stomach, and I trail down to his hips, and he grunts when I graze his length. "Never."

I look down to see him stroking himself, swollen and dripping, and I put my hand over his. His eyes widen at the action, and with no real experience, I make the snap decision to follow what he was doing. I stroke him from base to tip, touching the very head with my thumb, and despite my inexperience, it evokes a violent shudder from him.

Or maybe he likes the inexperience. He doesn't tear his stare away, and instead urges me on by groaning my name.

"Do you like that?" I ask lowly, watching him like a hawk. "Is that right?"

His eyes are half hooded now, his lips are parted open, and he's thrusting into my hand. He's quite the sight when he groans, hard and thick in my hand, urging me on. He doesn't answer right away, and I watch in pure fascination as he struggles to stay focused.

"Eric?"

"Yes," he grunts, slowing himself down. He then opens his eyes wide and knocks my hand away. "But I want you. I've wanted you since the minute I saw you. Since you crashed right into me in that stupid dress."

He hisses the last part, and there's no time for me to respond. Eric moves over me, nudging my legs apart and glancing down. I can feel him pressed against me, so tantalizingly close yet so far away, and he makes the decision for us. He lines himself up, and with one painfully slow thrust, he pushes inside me.

I groan his name at the same time he groans mine. He doesn't move right away; he stays there, pushing deeper until he's all I can feel, then he stops. He brushes his thumb over my cheek, mumbling Amity in a quiet groan, and he moves my hair off my face. He waits, bending down to press his lips to my forehead in a startling gentle way, and I nod.

It's a clever way to see if I'm alright, and I am.

He starts to move, sliding in and out, sometimes far enough that I sink my nails into his skin and whimper his name.

The feeling of him inside me is surreal. I'd half expected it to hurt, for he was larger than I would think would feel good, but I was pleasantly surprised. I liked how it felt physically, the thrusting in and out, slow and steady, then faster and stronger, hitting something deep inside me. I liked how he felt over me, his muscled arms holding his weight off me, his mouth returning to mine to kiss me, and his nose bumping mine, as he screws his eyes closed.

Mostly, I liked how it felt to be close to him.

There is a connection between us –strong and unwavering, now blurred between a casual fling and a deeply rooted attraction – and this only makes it more apparent. My body rises and falls beneath him; my limbs tangled with his, and my hands buried in his hair. My feet hit his shins, pressing there to gain traction then slipping when the wave of pleasure threatens to become too much.

He looks at me, lifting his head to really look at me, and I pause.

His expression makes me freeze, because no one has ever looked at me this way. Even in his highest moment of infatuation, Landon looked at me like I was something to own. A future wife of no real value, except to do what he asked.

Eric is nothing like him.

His gaze is burning with a mix of lust and want, a longing neither of us knew existed, and the tiniest, most fleeting hint of affection. There's some desire to claim me for his own mixed in, but it's different. It's not Landon, thinking I was stupid or someone who couldn't survive on my own, but Eric, thinking I could be someone to walk alongside him.

The combination is deadly, almost as deadly as the snap of his hips and the groan when he touches me, slick fingers finding slick need, and my eyes shut.

"Don't stop, please," I practically beg, and he willingly obliges. He manages to hold himself up while I try to claw him back down, and his strokes are enough that everything in me tightens. It starts in my thighs, warm and slow, then builds to a wave of pleasure too good to be true. "Eric, I…I'm…."

I have no clue what he's doing, or how. Only that the high of this is so good that I almost can't think straight, and neither can he.

I forget everything.

Landon. Colton. Getting attacked. The Leadership Dinner. My friends, probably wondering where I had gone.

All of that fizzles away as Eric's thrusting speeds up. I dig my nails into his shoulders, struggling to pull him closer, and when he does, I take his face in my hands. I kiss him, slowly, pressing my lips against his and enjoying the lush rush of this between us, and he moans. It's guttural and hot, pleading as he loses control.

"I'm… I'm…" he groans when I tighten my legs around him, but I can't answer him. He keeps touching me until my world turns bright white. Until the feeling of him is oh so good that everything else falls away, and I'm dimly aware of him tensing up. He croaks out my name, grunting it with every slam of his body against mine, and I realize he's come right after me. He finally crashes on top of me, pulsing inside me until his hips stop completely and his breathing comes in sharp pants. He stays there for a long time, until my eyes are closed and my fingers soften against his skin, and he slowly slides out of me.

The feeling is cruel.

After everything that just happened, I want him back over me, saying my name and letting me touch him.

"Are you okay, Amity?"

Eric mumbles these words at me, and there's a shuffling and dizzying drop as he moves. He's somehow on his back, and I find myself with my head on his chest. He works quickly, flipping the side of the comforter over us. He pulls me closer and slides his leg between mine, and the only thing I can focus on is how right this feels.

He brushes my hair out of my eyes, the braid trashed as he works to undo the ends, and he triumphantly works his fingers through it. It tangles, but he doesn't care. He angles me closer, one arm slid around me and the other in my hair, and he lowly informs me he'll have our dinners brought up.

I barely hear him.

My eyes stay shut while my mind sways, slowly drifting down from the high of what's happened to the feeling of lying in bed with him. It feels monumental. He's the only one I've ever done this with, and the only one I can see myself doing it with again.

He must feel the same way.

He has to.

Despite us being in opposing factions, Eric sighs in total contentment. His breathing deepens, slowing down to match mine, and he says my name one more time before we both fall asleep and forget about the dinner.

The glow from the TV screen is bright.

It bathes us in a blueish light, giving my skin a ghostly appearance. I sit in between Eric's legs with my back against his chest, slowly eating the salad that was delivered. He eats a few bites of his salad as well, the plates carefully balanced on dark sheets, and every so often, I can feel him wince when they shift.

I can only assume he's never once eaten breakfast in bed.

We both move onto the main course, still warm and agonizingly prepared, and I have to admit it's good. We're both quiet, until his phone vibrates. He reaches over with minimal interest, then declines the call.

He doesn't say anything, but he sets the phone back down on his nightstand and settles back against the pillows.

"You good?" He reaches for his fork, and I nod.

For a single second, I wonder what time it really is. The clock beside him reads eleven thirty, but it felt like I'd been gone for ages. I am surprised to discover dinner might still be going on, because I'd woken up to Eric climbing out of bed, and announcing he'd had our food brought up.

I thought perhaps I was dreaming.

When he returned, he pulled me back against him, him with only the boxer briefs thrown back on, and me with absolutely nothing on, and pushed a button so the TV screen lit up. It wasn't the same entertainment that the dinner would have provided; I knew we were missing out on what could have been happening, maybe Rylan performing some sort of dance number, or Jerry, amazing everyone with the tales of his murdered chicken. But this was fine, even better than all that, because it is just us.

I lean back against Eric further, and his dinner is long forgotten. His mouth finds my neck, and one arm slides around my waist to pull me back even tighter.

"Thank you," I smile as he nudges the plate away, and to my surprise, he doesn't even blink when it threatens to tip. "This is nice."

"Nice," he repeats, and his mouth moves down my neck, retracing its path from earlier. I squirm when he gets to a particularly ticklish spot, and I can feel him grin. He likes every reaction he's evoked, and he seems to be taking careful note of them. "I guess you could say it was nice."

"You know what I mean," I smile even wider when his palm presses flat across my stomach, and the man on the screen tries to mediate someone putting someone else's stapler in jello to no avail. "Did we miss dessert?"

"No." Eric's answer is dry, slow and lazy now that he's gotten what he wanted. "I can order whatever you want. But I have something you might like better."

He kisses the juncture of my neck and shoulder, less a kiss and more of a bold claim that I belong to him, and his attempt to erase Landon's mark is complete. I'd stumbled to the bathroom when he went to answer the door, and there was no way I could return to the dinner.

My hair was the first casualty.

My skin was the next.

It was raw, but in the most vibrant way possible. His lips and teeth had been everywhere, and Landon's handprint was now faint, almost gone, beneath the declaration of Eric. I had reached up to touch it, the place where he'd sunk his teeth and the bite mark he'd left on my collarbone, and for a second, I couldn't move.

It wasn't love.

It wasn't anything but pure and primal want, but hidden beneath it, were the faintest stirrings of something else. Eric was far more experienced than I was, and I imagined Ashley had done whatever he'd asked. Or maybe he'd never asked, and she just willing gave herself over to him, hoping he'd want her.

But when I saw her in Amity, I couldn't picture them together at all.

She was uptight. Perfectly rigid and perfectly intent on keeping her appearance spotless. I couldn't imagine him on top of her, or his lips brushing her cheek. Eric hadn't been slow or gentle, but he'd done his best to prove he wouldn't hurt me. Even if this wound up being nothing, a fleeting night together after weeks of slow and careful teasing, it was worth it.

For one night, I was Eric's whole world.

I wasn't entirely willing to give that up, not just yet.

Which is why it's not much later when I find myself on top of him, his thighs tensed and his eyes glued to me, and as I sink down onto him. It's easier the second time, and I dare say, even better.

Or maybe it's the look on his face.

His arrogance is lessened as he reaches for me, hands grasping my hips and fingers tensing, which tells me this is far from over.

I wake up from a dreamless sleep to darkness.

I slowly lift my head to see black sheets and inky pillows. It only takes a second before everything comes crashing back, and I realize where I am.

I'm in Dauntless.

I'm still in Dauntless, despite it being morning, and my friends have gone home. I sit up in a wave of panic, because it was unlikely they'd just left me behind. Sophia and Courtney wouldn't have gone home with Jerry and called it a day, nor would Jerry drive off without at least asking where I was. I have no clue how to explain that I'd walked away with Eric and wound up in his bed, and no way of even knowing where I am in the faction.

Before the panic can become all consuming, the bedroom door opens, and there he is.

Eric strolls into his bedroom lazily, fully dressed in clothes far more casual than his uniform. His hair is clean and neat, his black t-shirt is fitted, and his black pants are not ones I've seen before. I sit up slowly, shoving my hair out of my eyes and clutching the sheets to my chest like he hadn't watched me atop of him, completely naked, and he smiles.

It's a smug one, brimming with secret glee that I'm still here.

"Um, do you know where my dress is?" I stare up at him, noticing he has a cup of coffee in his hand, and he doesn't answer. He looks at me like he's going to be quizzed on this scene later, and his eyes darken when he takes a step toward me. "I don't see it anywhere and…"

I stop talking when he sits down on the bed. It dips beneath his weight, and he holds the cup of coffee out to me.

"Here. Rylan and Christina are coming by with clothes for you. I don't know where your dress is, but my guess is Carol took it to the laundry."

"Carol?" I stare in horror, and his amusement is immediate.

"Different Carol. This one hasn't murdered anyone. Not that I know of. Though, I wouldn't be too upset if she had," Eric answers dryly, watching as I take the cup from him. I take a slow sip, and it's surprisingly better than what I've had in Amity. "I told them you're going to take a shower. Christina wants you to eat lunch with her."

"What time is it?" I glance around, noticing far more things about his bedroom now. The nightstands are practically empty. One has a light, and one has a phone charger. The plates from last night are gone, and the only thing that possibly hints it even happened is the warm ache in my hips, and the hope that he'll climb back into bed and explain that I don't have to leave just yet. "Did everyone leave?"

"Last night," Eric smirks. "I called Rylan when you fell asleep. He told Jerry we were keeping you for interrogation about your attack in Amity. Rylan said the guy turned white and told him he understood. He also told Rylan he hasn't seen Landon since he was made factionless and he doesn't expect him to come back."

"I do," I answer quickly, sitting up a little more.

Eric's bed is large, larger than mine back home, and it's cold. It's strange to wake up by myself, but even stranger to have so much space. I've still wound up mostly on his side of the bed, having gravitated toward him during the night.

"I think you'd be naïve to think otherwise," Eric's eyes flash in triumph, and I wonder if this is how he kidnaps me.

It would be smart.

I'd willingly come to his faction, and now everyone in Amity would believe I was staying to talk about Landon.

It was the perfect plan, if not the one he'd been working on.

"If you want to take a shower, I'll bring the clothes in. Rylan has called nine times asking if you're ready." Eric stands up, but not before staring at me. "They want to take you to Clyde's. It's eleven now, but you seemed tired, so I let you sleep."

I don't know what Clyde's is, not entirely, but I nod.

"Thank you."

I hand him back his coffee, and I move to slide out of the bed. He waits, just for a second, until his phone rings. He leaves before I'm actually out of bed, and his disappointment is vibrant as he sighs and informs someone to check a second camera.

Mine is too.

The shower is luxurious.

It's a shocking sight in Dauntless, and more so for Eric's bathroom. Forrest's bathroom had always been a mess. Leif and Wesley's was a war zone; you could easily break your neck tripping over their towels, and neither seemed to think they had to ever wipe their sink down. There were usually clothes and boots piled high, and my mother only asked them to help when she was overwhelmed.

Eric's bathroom is so clean I'm almost afraid to take a shower.

I stare at the blinding white tile, lined with black, and it takes me a minute to figure out how to turn it on. The shower is large –spanning the length of the bathroom and wide enough for more than one person – and his shampoo bottles are black. I smile at the label, printed with scrolling letters spelling out the name, and the darkly rich smell.

But it works.

It lathers quickly, and I wonder what made him pick out this one. I rinse my hair for a few minutes, then I reach for the one beside it. The second bottle is just as dark, and he's used the exact same amount of both. I ruin this by squeezing out enough conditioner to get through my hair, and I get a rush of satisfaction that he even has any.

I stand there for a while, enjoying the hot water rushing over me, and I bask in the silence.

For such a violent, aggressive faction, it's oddly quiet here.

I use his body wash, his razor, and I put everything back where it was. I reluctantly turn the shower off when I'm done, and I hate the thought of leaving. It's a strange moment, considering my presence here has to feel invasive. Eric clearly liked his alone time and kept his apartment in perfect order, so I wonder if anyone else has stayed the night, or if they'd ever used his shampoo.

I get my answer when I wrap myself in a dark towel and stop in the bathroom doorway.

He opens it right as I reach for the doorknob, and in his arms are all kinds of dark fabrics. His eyes immediately go to my face –my eyes, my nose, my lips, then my neck. He watches the water drip down from my hair to my collarbone, and he swallows thickly.

"I told them we'd be there in a half hour," he moves closer, not breaking his stare. His eyes stay on the marks on my neck, his own, and his lips turn up slightly. "Christina brought you every kind of outfit imaginable. I told her to get whatever she thought would fit you."

He makes no move to hand me the clothes, dark and soft looking, and it's a strange contrast to my pastel life back in Amity.

"Did Ashley ever spend the night?"

I blurt this out before I can thank him for even asking someone to grab me clothes, and his eyes narrow. His amusement from before is gone, but he blinks, and I can see the struggle to answer me.

My heart clenches painfully, because I assume she has. Maybe I'd used her shampoo, left over from a time when she got to come here and I didn't, and it was meant to remind him of her.

"Eric?"

He steps closer, shaking his head slowly, and he bends down. His nose touches mine, followed by his lips.

His answer is spoken only once he's able to kiss me, a firm and quick no.

My tour of Dauntless is quick.

Once dressed, in a dark dress that was a size too big and the sleeves too long, I brushed my hair. I combed it until it was tangle free, and Eric watched. He waited patiently, staring with mild interest as I used his brush to comb my hair, and once I was done, he handed me a jacket.

It was his.

It's heavy and far too large, but warm.

"The faction is cold. You were cold last night so I'm assuming you'll be cold in Clyde's," he informs me, and his eyes linger as I fix it. It smells like him, and I now know he smells good because of the shampoo and body wash.

"I was cold?" I catch a glimpse of myself in his mirror, and it's a version of Everly that I didn't know could ever exist.

She looks nothing like the one back in Amity.

My skin is pale against the dark dress, and pale beneath my hair. The marks on my neck are not as noticeable anymore, and there's a flash of disappointment that the visible proof of our night together is fading. The dress I picked out is different. It's not frilly or loose, but fitted and shorter than anything I've ever worn. His jacket makes it look tough, despite the soft fabric and low neckline.

I'm still me, but a stronger version. I suddenly get why he's always dressed in dark clothes, because they feel invincible.

"All night, apparently," Eric retorts. "You almost knocked me off my own bed."

He stares in a way that makes me smile, because I can tell he didn't hate it.

If he had, he would have shoved me away or told me to go home.

"Where is Clyde's?" I ask, and he gestures for me to follow him. We head out of his apartment together, and the door shuts with a loud thud.

"Not far," Eric offers, and he keeps a careful distance between us while we walk down the hallway. It only lasts until we get to the elevators. He catches my elbow, then pushes the call button. Once inside, he pushes the button for the fifth floor, and moves to stand very close to me. My back is pressed against him, and he's quiet while the elevator moves.

I follow him once the doors open to a floor I don't remember, and I take everything in while we walk.

The hallways here are still dark, but lighter. There are a few skylights that allow sunlight to pour in, and Eric is right: it is cold. The flooring here is slicker, but also full of jagged steps. Being so far beneath the Earth means the faction holds a chill that Amity doesn't, and the further we walk, the colder it gets. When I look up at a particularly long stretch of hallway, a section where a camera blinks a red light, Eric's hand grazes mine. Just like in Amity, I feel his fingers touch mine with hesitancy, and I smile when it takes him a whole minute to slide his fingers between mine. Considering I'd fallen asleep with his hands in my hair and his naked legs shoved through mine, the hand holding should be nothing.

Coming from him, it's everything.

"We're almost there. This is the quieter part of the faction. After lunch, I'll show you the rest. The lower levels have housing. The initiates live one floor up from the very bottom. There's a basement that no one goes in. Above there are the shops. On one of the higher floors is the training room. You might even catch a glimpse of the initiates if you time it right," Eric informs me, and he slows down so I can walk up the stairs carefully to a suspension bridge. "Four changed their schedule this week for some bullshit reason, so they're training today."

"Was he at the dinner?" I pause to glance over the railing, and beneath us, is a cavernous hole. Eric waits as I try to see the bottom, but it's useless. Almost as useless as my question, since I'd been at the dinner for a whopping twenty minutes.

"No, he was not invited," Eric sneers, but he looks pleased. "He's not a leader. When he's not training the initiates, he works in the control room."

I nod, having no real clue what a control room was. I'm sure he'd mentioned it before, but I'm not really thinking about that. I'm thinking about how hungry I am, and how nice he looks staring at me.

"Can I see the control room?" I tilt my head up to look at him, and he smiles down at me. All of his grins hold some delight, like he rarely smiles and he's finding me more entertaining than anything. His smile is the same way right now, slick and pleased, and he raises his eyebrows at me.

"I'll show you whatever you want, Amity."

He tightens his grip on my hand, and we resume walking, both lost in our respective thoughts.

Clyde's looks exactly the same as it did in the pictures.

I've never seen anything like it except for the photos Rylan had left on the phone. The bar is huge; it goes back further than I can see, and it's dark. There are wooden tables and metal chairs, a row of oversized booths, a section meant for larger parties, and all kinds of interesting décor. Raw, wooden beams run along the ceiling, and rusty metal lanterns are hung every so often. Their glow is warm, bathing the members in an orange light. The bar is just as big as the restaurant. There are more barstools than I can count, and plenty of dark clad members sitting at them, clinking their glasses together.

Of course, everyone turns to look the second we walk in. Eric immediately drops my hand, but I'm not insulted. It moves to my lower back, pushing me into the lion's den. The looks on the faces of everyone staring tells me that Eric here is a rare sighting, let alone with someone else. A few members avert their eyes when he walks by, one scoots their chair out of his way, and another looks panicked.

Eric ignores all of them.

He leads me to a booth smack in the middle, and wordlessly points for me to sit down.

There, beaming up at us, are Rylan and Christina.

"That dress is my favorite out of everything I got!" Christina all but yells, and she looks as excited as Zander was when he saw his tiny Dauntless uniform. I smile as I take my seat, and Eric slides in beside me. He shoves me over further, then instantly closes the distance between us. He slings his arm behind me, jerking me back toward him, and his leg touches mine.

I sink against him before I can stop myself, and Rylan and Christina watch us. Her stare is as intense as Eric's, but more out of pure, indulgent joy. She watches as Eric shifts closer, as his fingers touch the ends of my hair, and as they slide in, grazing against my neck. Her head tilts when someone drops off menus in front of us, and Eric slowly works to move me closer to him.

Which is impossible.

I'd be on his lap if I were any closer.

"Do I…what do you do with those?"

I stare at the paper in front of me, thick and covered in a sheer plastic, and the categories are endless. There are sections labeled in boxes with a slew of things: drinks, appetizers, salads, entrees, sides, desserts, a list of beers, a list of expensive liquors, and even more items printed on the back.

I notice you can also purchase a pack of ammunition, delivered straight to your table, for thirty-nine points.

"What do you mean?" Rylan asks, but he doesn't get very far. The server hovers by the table, her mouth slightly agape as her stare lingers on me, but she eventually asks what we all want to drink.

"You just order. I will have a beer. Make that two beers," Rylan is the first to speak, and he turns to Christina. "What do you want? A milkshake?"

"Um, no." She looks at him like he's insane. "I'll have a water. And a coffee."

"I'll have whatever Rylan is drinking," Eric answers dismissively, and the girl waits patiently for me to respond.

I stare up at her, at the line of rings in her eyebrow, the ring through the side of her nose, and the vibrant purple streaks in her hair. Her outfit is black, a very fitted shirt with tears and rips strategically torn through the fabric, and her skirt is short. She's halfway patient, and I try to figure out what the drinks are.

I recognize none of them except water and coffee.

"She'll have a ginger ale," Eric barks, and he waves the server away. "You pick what you want to eat and she'll go tell the kitchen. They make it and she brings it out. She'll bring us our check at the very end."

"And we have to tip her," Rylan adds, and he stares. His shirt is not black, but a dark green, and his hair is a disaster. "Do you have restaurants in Amity? I swore someone said there's a bar but I've never seen one."

"No, just the Dome. They'll make you whatever you want, but it's not like this. It's just a serving line," I explain, and Rylan thinks this over. "It's not quite the same. They just give the food to you. You don't have to pay for it."

"Oh, you have to pay here," Christina checks her phone, and casually taps away with frightening speed. "It's overpriced, for sure, but Harrison owns it and Rylan loves Harrison."

"Who doesn't? He caught a wild boar with his bare hands!" Rylan protests, and he shrugs. "Plus, he's smart. He invested in this years ago, and no one else did. Max was just complaining he'll have to work until he dies."

"Everyone works until they die," Eric answers, and this time, his fingers loop into my hair. "It's that or jump. What does he expect?"

"You jump? Into what?"

"The chasm," both Rylan and Christina answer, and they sound sort of glum.

"Let me be honest, you don't really have to," Christina sets her phone down, and her gaze flies to me. "Some people just sneak out. Vanish right in the middle of the night. It's rumored they go to Amity to live out their days. Maybe Rylan should look into that. Is it true? Do you have people show up so they don't have to die in Dauntless?"

"Maybe?" I don't react when Eric tenses beside me at the idea of anyone flocking to Amity, and the girl returns to drop off our drinks. "It would be hard to tell. There's so many people and I doubt they would turn anyone away. There's a lot of work to do."

I stop when I realize the server is waiting to take our order, and I slide my menu closer. "Sorry, let me look at this again."

"It's no big deal," she says, and I can feel her gaze on me. "Um, I can start with the others. Rylan, do you want chicken nuggets? We don't have the kid's menu available right now, but Paul will make them."

"Yes," he slams his fist down on the table. "Two orders. With fries. Don't forget the ketchup. And tell Harrison I demand adult chicken fingers."

"I'll get right on that," she rolls her eyes while she scrawls his order down. "Christina?"

"I'll have a chicken sandwich," Christina swats at Rylan. "Don't bug Harrison. Maybe try ordering adult food for once."

"Never."

"I'll have a hamburger," Eric shoves the menu away from him, and he looks at me. "Did you pick something?"

I nod, but the menu is oddly intimidating. The Dome served lots of food, but not special orders. You could always ask, and more than likely, someone would try if they weren't too busy. The little kids were expected to eat what the adults ate, and they provided enough of a variety that everyone could find something they liked.

But here, the items are neatly laid out, and it's clear they come as a meal. I've never had french fries or onion rings, and I don't know what some of the stuff is. I finally order a chicken salad, since it sounded safe, and Eric hands the server my menu.

"Great, so chicken fingers for Rylan, a chicken sandwich for Christina, one hamburger with everything on it for Eric, and one chicken salad for…" She pauses, and everyone looks at me.

"Everly. Her name is Everly and she's Eric's future wife!" Rylan answers brightly, and Christina smacks him.

"Rylan! You promised to behave!" she hisses, and I force myself not to laugh. Rylan is full on snickering into his drink, and next to me, Eric looks murderous. His smile is forced and tight, and his eyes are unamused. I'd be worried, except he shakes his head, and moves his arm closer.

"Okay, so I'm gonna go put this in and I'll be back to check on you." The server glances around quickly, then stops at me again. She says my name under her breath, slowly, then she walks away. She repeats it again, and I wonder if she knows everyone's name.

"Don't mind her," Christina catches my stare. "Lucy is a little nosy. She's sort of…interesting."

"She's obsessed with everything Eric does. Because she hates him," Rylan laughs. "She one time spilled a drink on him and he threatened to kill her. Paul made her pay to have his clothes dry cleaned."

I peek up at Eric out of the corner of my eye, and he feigns innocence.

"They were my good pants."

"Right, right. Like you can't afford to buy new pants. Or, you know, wash your own." Rylan jeers, but it's good natured. "Hey, Everly, is Zander…he's not a narc is he?"

"Zander?" I stare at Rylan, wondering if he's serious. "You really think Zander would tell on you?"

"I thought you adored him! You said he was a cool little kid," Christina turns in surprise, and she stares at him. "Out of everything we talked about asking Everly, you really want to know if her little brother is spying on you for Harrison."

"Uh yeahhhh," Rylan sneaks a glance at me, and Eric shakes his head. "He knows a lot, okay?"

"What else did you want to ask her? You better hurry up. I have to get her back to Amity after this."

"What?! No! Absolutely not! That's not enough time! I have a lot of questions! Starting with…how does your mom keep her house so clean?"

I smile along with Christina, but his question is a good one.

"She just…cleans it. Or we help her." I take a sip of the drink Lucy brought me, and it's sweet. "Or someone will. My dad stays up late sometimes."

"Your…dad," Rylan looks at Eric, then at Christina, then back at Eric. He doesn't look at me, but at my drink. "Is he…nice?"

"Yeah," I shrug, and Eric doesn't like this answer. His fingers move to the back of my neck, and they tighten in my hair. "There are a lot of us. We aren't super close, but he's a good dad. He's…" I stop when Lucy returns to set down some chips. "He was really upset I got attacked."

"You got attacked by that guy…the ex-boyfriend right?" Christina takes a chip, and she looks at Rylan out of the corner of her eye. "I thought Harrison talked to him. Eric told us they were doing everything they could to keep you alive, including threatening anyone who came near you. Didn't Harrison come back and say the dude agreed not to touch her."

"He did!" Rylan declares, and he tries not to look at my throat. "I wasn't there when he went to find Landon, but we've been working on it. All of us."

"Oh," I answer, because I had no clue they were really doing anything.

Eric had told me they were trying to find the factionless and he told me Rylan and Jason had gone to look for their army. I knew they were making attempts to watch the cameras, and Jeremy had been in and out of Amity, but I had to admit it didn't feel like it was enough. I wasn't incredibly knowledgeable about how to take down an army, but as the person who'd caught Evelyn's attention, I was willing to learn.

Maybe I should learn.

Maybe I should ask Eric if I could go find them, taking along him and his friends, and leading them right to her. There is a chance it would work, especially if I went looking for Landon.

I think about this while I eat lunch, with my foot bumping Eric's shin and his arm touching mine. I fall quiet when the conversation turns to talking about Four, and I listen as Rylan recants a tale about how he and Four got into an argument over who got the last chocolate muffin. He gets more and more worked up, ranting about how Four had outright sulked when all that was left was blueberry, and Christina gently reminds him to be nice.

"You don't have to be nice to him because you feel bad for him," Rylan points out, and Eric laughs as he drinks his beer. "He and Tris broke up forever ago. She's dating that dumbass now and Four is dating no one. We don't have to pretend she's not better off with someone who doesn't cry themselves to sleep."

"Who is this Four?" I take a slow bite of the chicken, and they all look at me like they've just remembered I don't know who they're talking about. "Eric said he trains the initiates but…"

"Oh, he's real exciting," Rylan interrupts, and he waves one dinosaur shaped chicken nugget at me. "I'm sure you'll bump into him. If Eric keeps you here long enough."

"I told you," Eric responds, low and annoyed. "She has to go back to Amity at some point. Harrison said twenty fours hours past the dinner, maximum. Johanna is well aware of how long we can hold someone for questioning."

"Please. Keep interrogating Everly. She can stay forever if you don't stop asking questions," Rylan insists, and the two of them argue over whether or not Rylan's plan will actually work. He's determined to prove he's right, but I don't know any of the rules he's spouting off, so I turn to Christina. She smiles widely and shakes her head.

"He's been working on this for weeks. Rylan is fully committed to you staying here," she pushes her plate away, and Lucy shows up like she's been waiting for a reason to come by. She cheerfully takes the plate away, and Christina hands her a black card. "Will you run this? I want to pay for lunch."

"Sure," Lucy agrees, and Rylan and Eric stand up.

"We'll be right back. We gotta talk to Kacie. She just showed up looking like someone pissed in her cornflakes," Rylan climbs out of the booth with zero grace, and he practically sprints over to a blonde lady. She yelps when he grabs her, spinning around on one high shoe, and her eyes flash in pure annoyance. Her stares whips around to see where he came from, and I was right.

She's terrifying.

She's just as stern looking as I imagined and her icy blonde hair matches her expression. She snaps something at Rylan, and he waves his hands around dramatically, doing his best to convince her of something.

"What is he doing?" Christina squints, and he waves. "He's going to drive her insane."

"I'll be right back." Eric informs me, and our eyes lock. "If Christina gets too annoying, feel free to leave."

"Rude," Christina smiles up at him, and she waits until he leaves to flip him off. "Sorry, you might like him, but I only tolerate him because of Rylan. Eric and I aren't the best of friends."

"That's okay," I watch him walk away, and he looks back to see if I'm looking at him. When he's satisfied that I am, he smirks, and heads over to Rylan and Kacie. "I don't really know anything about his life here. Only what I've heard."

"I'm sure he hasn't told you much," she wrinkles her nose, but it's fleeting. "Come sit by me. I'll explain everything."

She gestures for me to move over by her, and twenty minutes later, Eric returns right as she finishes explaining just exactly who Eric Coulter is.

This time, the light pours in from daringly high windows.

The training room sprawls out before me, and the first thing I notice is the smell of sawdust and despair. The room is full of initiates, spilling onto the mats in violent bursts. They are fighting each other, some sloppy, some precise, some far better than the others, but all with a manic energy. I can feel their determination to prove themselves here, to stay in Dauntless and not be factionless, with each and every breath they take.

It makes me shiver.

The room is laid out in a giant rectangle, and most of the initiates are fighting, but a few are waiting and watching. There's a chalkboard with the names ranked, and the first is Karl. Right beneath him is Jake, followed by CJ, Kevin, and a slew of others. I read the names quickly, trying to see if I can figure out who is who, but I can't. There are a few girls, but mostly boys, and they pummel each other brutally.

"Fun, right?"

Rylan rocks back on his heels, cocking his head at the sight before us.

He'd walked me down here, eager to show me some of the faction. Eric and I made it a single step outside of Clyde's before his phone rang. News of my stay must have made it to someone who could pull rank over Eric, because his jaw clenched down, his eyes swept over to me, and he snarled that "Yes, she is still here." He hung up after a terse exchange, then instructed Rylan to show me around for thirty minutes. He said to meet him in the Pit after, and Rylan saluted in response.

He then showed me a few areas of the faction at warp speed.

We skipped past the stores, where we said goodbye to Christina as she headed into work. Rylan pointed out the coffee shop, a tattoo parlor, where someone eyed us warily while we walked by, and glared when he thought we were coming inside. There was a juice bar, a surprising addition that I wasn't expecting, but it makes sense in some way. A store with dark clothing. A store with darker clothing. A place to get your hair cut, where Rylan hurried me past.

"Don't get too close. They'll try to chop off your hair when you tell them just a trim."

After that, he showed me a water fountain.

A wall, where Eric had once slammed someone's face after they insulted his mother. Rylan insisted the insult was fine and accurate, but Eric still didn't care for it.

He showed me the best place to hide, the worst place to hide, and the spot where Tris had dumped Four. I didn't know who Tris was, but Rylan went on to explain she was a friend of Christina's and an enemy of Eric's. I put together that Christina hung around Eric because of Rylan, and Eric tolerated her because his friend liked her.

Rylan concluded our tour in the training room, and he led me down the row of mats and explained what was going on.

"So, right now, they've learned to fight. They've learned basic evasive maneuvers, basic fighting moves, and how to judge their opponent. Then they move to tactical fighting, or what happens if they're attacked. These are practice fights, but there's always a chance someone will take it too far. They're scored on how well they fight or how poorly." Rylan watches a few swing their fists and when they notice him, they stand up a little straighter.

He smiles, watching them as they punch each other in the face, and every so often, he grimaces.

"That one's gonna hurt."

We are near the end of the mats, and the fight between two of the boys escalates. I realize I'm watching Jake fight against someone. I barely recognize him as he pins the other guy to the ground, and he practically shakes with fury. His fist comes down, colliding with the guy's nose, and the gush of blood is immediate.

"Shit!"

Jake pulls away immediately, wiping his own face off, and he steps back. Despite his new life here, the Amity in him is hard to erase. He looks remorseful, and his face tightens. "You okay, man?! Shit, shit shit!"

"Fuck, dude. I didn't mean what I said. I take it back! You can fight!" The guy groans, rolling onto his side and dripping blood everywhere.

"Should you go…help?" I look at Rylan, and my instinct is to go make sure the guy is okay. But Rylan shrugs and points in the distance.

"Nah, Four is heading this way right now. He'll clean up the blood."

"Are you sure that guy is alright?" I watch as he stays down, but eventually, he shoves himself into a seated position and holds onto his head. He looks dizzy, but also crazy thanks to the blood. A few feet away, Jake looks torn, and he returns to his opponent to offer his hand.

"He'll live," Rylan answers casually, and we both watch as Jake reaches down to help him up.

A second later, Four jogs over and surveys the scene before him. He glances at the guy, reaching down to help pull him to his feet, and he pats Jake on the arm. There's some instruction between them that we can't hear, then he steps back off the mat. He points toward an exit, and Jake glances that way. Then, he looks confused, and he glances at me.

His jaw drops.

"Everly!"

Four turns in the direction Jake is staring, and I get a good look at the guy who Rylan deemed not exciting.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Four stands there with a look of pure and utter nausea, and I'm staring right into the face of Tobias Eaton.

"Why are you here?"

He's just as friendly as he was the last time I saw him. He stares at me, slow rage spilling out of him, and he gestures for me to follow him.

Tobias recognized me immediately. He stared without moving except for his jaw going slack, and his hands balling into fists. His eyes flew between Rylan and me a sickening number of times, and at one point, he rubbed the back of his neck.

Rylan missed all of this.

His phone rang so loudly I jumped, and he cheerfully said hello. The voice on the other end was rough, and I got the faint inkling he was talking to Eric. Their conversation drove him away from us, and eventually, Rylan covered the phone and yelled he'd be right back.

Tobias wasted no time. He all but dragged me away from Jake and his victim, and off into the dark hallway. It was so dark it took my eyes a minute to adjust, but once they did, it was hard to miss the sight before me.

I was right: Tobias is from Dauntless.

His hair is the same, his jacket is a heavy black one that echoes Eric's, and his t-shirt collar is loose enough to reveal a slew of tattoos curling over his shoulder. He towers over me the same way Eric does, but without the authority.

In fact, he wavers between looking like he's losing his grasp on his own sanity and wanting to punch me for being here.

I suddenly get that his life here might be a struggle. The way Rylan and Eric spoke about him, and the way he seemed to not fit anywhere, the way he clearly had made a mistake in helping his mother. It all culminates with seeing me, and his expression is pure raging fear.

"You're…you're Four? I knew you were from here!" I stare up at him, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How do you think I know about Eric?" he struggles to stay calm, and his words are desperate. "Why are you here? Why are you dressed like him? Where is…why aren't you in Amity?"

"I came to the Leadership dinner. I just…spent the night." I answer honestly, and I shrug. "Christina brought me the dress. I'm staying to answer some questions."

Tobias, or Four –I really don't know what to call him now – blinks.

"You just spent the night? With him? You think that's smart?"

"I'm not the one training the factionless army. You train both the armies just so they can fight against each other?" I stare at his eyes, storming with rage, and he knows he's stuck. "Does Eric know?"

"No." He answers sharply, so sharp that I can feel it. "But I know you need to leave, right now. Tell him you need to go home."

"I'm waiting for Rylan," I answer, and I cross my arms. "Why are you still helping Evelyn? Did you know I got attacked by Landon a few days before the dinner? He said Colton knew they put a tracker in him and he could feel it. Landon was by the Dome after you left and then he tried to kill me a few houses away from my own. Why would you help them?"

"They're not all like that," he warns, but it comes out pleading. "Everly, go back to Amity. Go back and find someone there. It's not safe here. You're not safe."

"I'm not safe there, either. Not with your army just waiting to take over."

His frustration is palpable. His shoulders rise up, and he exhales heavily.

"You need to get out of here. I'll stop the army. I'll tell Evelyn not to hurt you. Just…go back and finish your initiation. Forget about Eric. Whatever he has you believing is a lie. He's using you. He's just…" Tobias stops talking, and his eyes darken. "Fuck."

"I'm sorry, do you two know each other?"

I turn the minute I hear the voice, low and slick and pleased, and there is Eric. He's watching from a few feet away, his head tilted and his spine straight, looking downright delighted.

Tobias says nothing, but his breathing picks up.

"Everly…have you met Four before?"

Eric walks slowly, his gaze fixed not on me, but on Tobias. I'm not sure where to look, because I can feel Tobias subconsciously lean away from me. I have the strange urge to stay in between them, because my stomach sinks when Eric gets closer. He's not even looking at me, but over me, like today is the best day of his life.

"Everly?"

"I met her in Amity. Once, on accident. She recognized me there, and she asked me about her friend who just punched someone. Jake's from Amity," Tobias lies slightly. I didn't ask him about Jake, but we did meet on accident.

If you count Landon introducing me as an accident.

"Is this true?" Eric murmurs, and he stops in front of me. He ignores Tobias completely, and he reaches for my hands. His fingers touch mine, and his smile is soft. "You met…Four in Amity?"

"Yes," I nod, and I realize I have to pick a side here.

I have no loyalty to Tobias. When I really look at it, his own mother is leading a crusade to take me down. I had lucked into being her target, a small blip on her mission to take over, but he hadn't stopped her, even though he knew what was going on.

His promise that he would, only came because he was afraid I would announce who he is.

"Interesting. I didn't know Four had a reason to be in Amity. He must know that your father was just attacked there," Eric looks at me, and my gasp is immediate. "He's fine. Just a little…routine head trauma. Nothing to be nervous about. I'll get you back to him as soon as I handle a few things."

"Is he alright? Is he going to be okay?" I stare up at him, and he nods.

"From what I heard, yes. More scared than anything. Harrison is on his way there now. Kacie called to alert us of some suspicious activity. The patrols found him in his greenhouse. It would be a shame if…. there's a connection to all this I'm missing. Someone who knew why the people of Amity would be attacked. Especially…a man who once spent his free time serving the factionless dinner."

Eric is very smart.

His words are soft but calculating, and he murmurs them with appropriate respect. My heart clenches at the thought of my dad being hurt, and the panic and guilt is enough for me to realize what I have to do.

I glance back once, and Tobias looks at the ground, and he knows what's coming.

"He's been helping them. He trained the factionless army. His mother is their leader." I stare up at Eric, and his grey eyes flash. He nods, almost sympathetically, and behind me, Tobias closes his eyes.

"So you're saying, that Four…or Tobias…knew that Landon has been coming after you, time and time again, and he hasn't done a single thing about it?" Eric's words are quiet, but they drip with venom. "He trained them to hurt you? And your father?"

I can't look away from Eric, and he steps even closer. One of his hands moves to touch my cheek, startling soft and slow, and his thumb grazes my lower lip. I flash back to last night, him over me, leaning down to kiss me while he groaned my name. It seems impossibly long ago, and the very last time I felt safe.

I wasn't safe in my own faction.

And I might not even be safe here.

Not if Tobias could walk around, with an army ready to attack.

"He said he'd tell them to stop, but it's too late now. My dad didn't do anything. He didn't hurt anyone, he wouldn't. He told me he'd tell Evelyn to leave me alone…"

I throw Tobias one last chance at redemption, but I have a feeling there is none. Eric leans down, and he takes my face in his hands. His eyes search mine, and somewhere in his, is reassurance that he can keep me safe.

"Oh little Amity, I don't think Four, has any intention of stopping his mother's army. If he did, he wouldn't have sent Colton for you or your father. I promised I'd keep you safe, and today, I'm going to keep that promise."

His lips touch mine, so brief it's like I imagined it, and then he takes off, lunging right for Tobias.


	17. The Truth about Tobias

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! I'm still working up on updating these chapters on here :)

Tobias's head hits the wall.

I'm shoved to the side, and Eric's roar echoes in my head once he has a hold of him. Even in the dark, their struggle is well matched, but ultimately, Eric has the upper hand. He's larger, stronger because he was planning to attack, and quicker. I watch as Tobias's head hits a jagged section of the wall, once, then twice, and his groan only fuels Eric on further.

He grabs him by the collar of his jacket and yanks away, dragging him into the sliver of light. The burst of blood gushes, but it's unsatisfactory to Eric.

"Where is she!?"

Eric snarls at Tobias, and I watch, as this version of Eric blossoms in front of me. It's clear he's powerful, and in the dark hallway, he is terrifying. No wonder the members were shrinking away from him, and no wonder Tobias had warned me to stay away.

Eric pushes him back, and it's like he's toying with him. He makes no real move to attack, simply goading him until he'll snap. "I said, where is she Four? Where is her fucking army?"

"I thought you knew. Aren't you tracking them?" Tobias wipes his cheek, and he stares down Eric carefully. He looks a little dazed, but he downplays it, shutting his eyes to gather himself for a split second. "You said you had a handle on it. Now you need me to give you the answers?"

"Oh, you don't have to give them to me. I'll get them out of you one way or another." Eric smirks, and Tobias moves a moment too late.

Eric's fist connects with his side, and before he can do much more, there is a rush of dark shoving past me. The yelling is loud, bouncing off the walls and echoing over and over. It takes me a moment to figure out it's Jason. Rylan. Jeremy. The woman from the dinner who was wearing the black dress. They head right for the fight, delving in between Eric and Tobias, and they work to pull them apart. Jason and Rylan take hold of Eric, yanking him back, and he does his best to shake them.

"He's helping her!" Eric hisses, and Jason nods. He's got Eric by the arm, but their struggle is evident. If he lets go, Eric won't stand still. "He trained her fucking army. I knew it! I knew you were up to no good. I couldn't figure out why we could never quite find them and now I know. It was him."

"Okay, okay, but you can't kill Four. You want him alive." Rylan does his best to stand in front of Eric, and his expression is panicked. "You can't kill him, you promised us you'd wait until you had real proof that he's involved. And uh, now you have it, but Max will be really mad if he doesn't at least get some paperwork on this."

Tobias stays silent.

I catch a glimpse of his expression as Jeremy and the woman hold him, and she frowns at the blood on his face.

"Why would you help her, Four? Is this true?" She asks, and her disdain is clear as day. "You really want the factionless to take over?"

"No." Tobias shakes his head, and he looks at me. Regret is all over his face, but it does little to pacify Eric. "That's not at all what I want."

"Sure." Eric snaps, and then he glances over at me. His gaze is livid, and it only intensifies when his stare falls to my neck. "Your army attacked Everly over and over. Even with Johanna being alerted to what's going on, your little friends still kept fighting."

"She's helping too." Tobias admits lowly, and he looks at me. "She's not…Johanna met with Evelyn a few times. She was willing to help feed them if it meant changing for the better. She doesn't want anything bad to happen but there are casualties with any war. You know this-"

He doesn't get another word out.

He gets the brunt of Eric's rage, really meant for Landon, or maybe the both of them.

Jason and Rylan fail to hold him back and the fight is so loud, eventually someone from the training class wanders over to see what's going on.

"Are you uh, you're okay?"

Jake swings his feet on the back of the truck, and his stare slides over me. He takes in the dark dress, the flat shoes, and the dot of blood on the back of my hand and he makes a face. "Everly?"

"I think so." I turn to look at him, and honestly, I have no clue how to answer.

The past few days were a blur of excitement, starting with Landon attacking me. Walking along with him had been a mistake, but I had no choice. In the darkest part of the night, I wanted to believe there was something good in him. I wanted to believe he had a reason for joining Evelyn and a reason for thinking I was an idiot. Maybe I was an idiot. Maybe I was too trusting, too hopeful that he'd see what he was doing, and most definitely, too naïve to realize he was never going to think much of me.

I was hopeful for a lot of things these days. May had given me hope that Eric cared about me, and even though our phone call suggested otherwise, he proved it in person. I hadn't planned on sleeping with him, but I felt like it was meant to happen. Those hours, dark and warm and endless, were something I had never experienced before. He wasn't gentle, nor did he profess his love, but it felt like he was trying to show me how he felt, because he couldn't say it.

I caught every sigh of my name, every slow, purposeful touch, and every nudge in my direction. I'd awakened in his bed, ate lunch with his friends, and felt like the rug was pulled out from under me when he attacked Tobias right in front of me.

I couldn't figure out what to call him.

He wasn't Four, but he really wasn't Tobias.

I saw this when Jeremy ripped him away, and his eyes met mine. It felt like I was seeing who he really was, and that was someone who had lost their way.

In Amity, someone would take him in. May, or maybe even Jerry, even my own mother. They would see the aching hurt behind his stare, the wild gaze when he realized he was trapped, and they'd try to protect him. He didn't fit in anywhere, just like I didn't belong in Amity. Amity wasn't my ultimate dream, but Dauntless was a whole different world where I wasn't sure I belonged, either.

I hadn't been in Dauntless long enough to know if I'd fit in here, but I wasn't going to get the chance.

Max appeared as Eric was wiping blood from his own face, and he sternly instructed them both to knock it off. He paused when he saw me standing there, and his expression turned pensive as he told Four to follow him to the infirmary. He then instructed Jake to walk me out of Dauntless, to the trucks, and Eric's protest started a whole slew of other arguments.

It was agreed I'd wait with Jake and Karl, and Eric would arrange a ride home for me.

Max stared for a minute, warm and not at all displeased that I was here, but the situation at hand was all over the place. Eric was rabid at the thought of both Tobias being involved and that I was leaving on terms that weren't his. Jason looked disappointed. Rylan was trying to figure out how to change Max's mind and he kept repeating Amity wasn't safe and Max knew it.

Only Jeremy looked bored, and he shoved Tobias along with little interest.

"It's uh, weird to see you here. I'm a little embarrassed, actually." Jake confesses. "Everyone has been giving me shit about being from Amity. I feel like I have to prove myself over and over. Sometimes it gets to be so much that it's like, I just see red. I never felt like that back in Amity."

"Do you miss it?" I pull my feet up beneath me, and off to the side, Karl talks with a few of the guards. He's dressed in the same workout clothes Jake is, and the two of them seem immense. Jake isn't a small guy by any means, but Dauntless has made him lethal. "May has new ducks. She made one a tiny witch hat to pass out candy in."

"Oh man, I wish I could have seen that. I don't miss Amity, but I miss the treat trail. Did Zander dress up?" He looks at me, and for a second, it's like he never left. "Tell him hi. I was thinking of him the other day. Someone here fell off their bunk and I remember how you said he would fall out of your bed when he was really little. Is he still glued to your side?"

"Sometimes. He's eased up a little bit, but he's obsessed with Dauntless. He likes the soldiers. My mom made him a uniform like theirs to wear." I watch Karl shoot the shit for a minute longer, and he flashes me a blinding grin when he sees me looking in his direction. "Is your initiation hard?"

"You have no idea. I feel like you gotta earn your spot here and even then, it can be gone in a second. One mistake knocks you down in the rankings. One day you're on top, and the next day you're trying to claw your way back up. It's been rough." He sighs, but he smiles. "But there was no way I could stay in Amity. I wouldn't have been able to live there. I couldn't take it much longer."

"Yeah, I understand the feeling." I smile, because I was living my own decision to stay in a faction that wasn't mine. "I probably should have picked somewhere else. I think I'm about to fail our initiation."

"How?" Jake is shocked, but I don't get the chance to explain.

Eric comes storming around the corner, with Jason and Rylan hot on his heels.

"How's your head?"

I stare at Four curiously, and I decide this is who he really is. Tobias doesn't suit him, neither does the cracked skull and the zig zag of stitches. He stares at me like he's not sure if he can trust me, and I ignore the irony of the situation.

I'd only been taken down here because Max wanted to talk to me, and he had come down to talk with Four. I wondered what Max thought about this whole situation, or if Four's mistake was one of unforgiveable magnitude.

Eric seemed to think so.

He'd done a number on Four's head, but it wasn't completely awful.

I was taken downstairs, deep into the faction. Their infirmary was far different from ours; the lights were a blinding white, the lobby had dozens of chairs as though they were prepared for an onslaught of patients, and the receptionist was busy. She looked up as I walked in with Jake, and told me Max was waiting for me. She directed me to head back and to the left and stared while Jake said goodbye. He got the hint. He quickly flashed a big smile, made me promise to tell Zander he was alive, and disappeared into the darkness that was Dauntless.

I tried to follow the directions I'd been given, but the infirmary was a maze of rooms, offices, and beds. The hallways went in a square, giving way to other sections. An area for x-rays, an area for bloodwork. A section labeled Maternity. A section labeled Intensive Care Unit. A door that read Supplies. I paused to glance into one of the rooms, an exam room, and I ducked away just as a group of nurses strolled by, cheekily commenting on the slow night.

Minutes later, I lucked into finding Four sitting in an open area of beds, and the nurse helping him is the same one from the dinner. She doesn't immediately notice me, but he does. He looks over at me, and his expression is miserable.

His cheek is bloodied where he'd wiped at it, and the nurse who did the stitches hovers nearby, making small comments about how he's lucky Eric didn't do more damage. Four doesn't seem to agree. He winces with every breath, but he downplays his discomfort when she returns. Her dark black scrubs are sharp and wrinkle free, and her hair is chaotic. She eyes me as I walk over, presses her lips together, and firmly instructs Four not to move. She then knots the black string, cuts it, and passes him a cup of something to drink while informing him his lip would heal just fine.

She tells him she'll be right back, and her gaze slips over me once more as she gathers up her paperwork and barks at someone to come grab it.

"It's fine. I'll live. For now," Four answers, and he looks past me. I know he's looking for Eric, but he's not here. He's outside the infirmary with Jason and Rylan. They'd explained Max wanted to talk to me before I left, and to follow them. Eric was silent the entire way down here, a step ahead of me, and I wondered if he didn't always get his way. "Why are you down here?"

"Max wants to talk to me," I stand in front of him, and I move to the side when the nurse returns. The name on her scrubs reads Arlene, and she eyes me again. "I don't know why, but they said to come with them."

Max isn't in here anymore.

I saw him for only a moment, announcing he had to take a call, and he told me to stay by Four.

"He's going to ask you about Evelyn and her army. About my involvement. Why Eric didn't know. He knows he's been talking to you. He's the one who approved Eric's plans to keep an eye on Amity." Four shrugs, and Arlene takes his temperature. He glares at her, but it has no real affect. She moves on to ask if his vision is blurry, and his answer is a thin no.

"So this is my fault?" I ask, feeling a wave of confusion, and he shakes his head. He winces, then stops and accepts another cup, this one filled with water. "I told Eric about Evelyn. I told him about the factionless army."

"Yeah," Four holds my stare, and he swallows down the drink in one gulp. "But you didn't tell him about me."

Max is about as intimidating as Jerry.

I don't get the same lethal vibe that I got from Eric, not even the vibe I got from Jason and Rylan. They were chaotic and cheerful, but I knew they could hold their own. Even Four seemed like he could take Max in a fight.

Rather than just another violent soldier, Max reminds me of someone who would enjoy a slower pace of life. He walks with me –leisurely, and he keeps his arms behind his back. He occasionally slows even more to let a few members pass, and it's clear he's well respected. They smile and nod hello, then continue on their way. I hear a few whispering about Eric attacking Four and how Lauren is pissed she has both classes now.

Max comes to a stop when we get to the large, open area, and a good distance behind us, Eric watches.

His stare is sharp –lethal and precise—and glued to me. He doesn't smile, he doesn't blink, and he stays far enough back that Max can't tell him to go back and check on Four.

Which he already had.

Twice.

With a smile on his face, almost like he was reprimanding two small children.

Eric refused, and instead followed behind with Jason and Rylan, and waited to see what Max wanted.

"I'm very sorry about what's happened here today. Our faction prides itself on handling things directly. Sometimes it is necessary to fight for peace. Our intention is never to involve those who aren't part of this." Max pauses to tell a hurrying Chad hello, and he looks at me. "You are aware of how someone becomes factionless, are you not?"

I nod.

"And you're aware of the harm they pose and why forming an army of factionless could prove to be a threat to our system?" I nod again, and he continues, speaking lowly. "You've experienced their violence, and we've been working to fix this. Eric has been personally invested in this project for a while now. Which is odd, because Amity is his least favorite faction. He usually sends someone in his place."

Max waits for me to answer, but I don't know what he wants me to say.

I wonder if he's waiting for me to confess Eric has been showing up to see me.

"I know. I told him about the army," I look up at him, and he silently encourages me to go on. "I told him about Evelyn and Landon and the attacks. He was there for one of them. He was there when Colton attacked me."

"I met Colton not too long ago. Rather unpleasant man." Max looks over at Eric, still in the distance, now with his arms crossed over his chest. "I can promise you we are working to keep peace in Amity, but Johanna doesn't always agree with our methods. She prefers compromise over violence, and unfortunately, the factionless don't agree with her."

"Four said she's helping them, too. I didn't know that. She said she kicked Landon out of Amity, but it's worse that he won't be there. At least while he was there, he had to pretend to fit in." I tell Max this, hoping he'll understand the urgency of the situation.

He doesn't seem too worried.

"Are you going to kill Four? Because I didn't tell Eric he was involved?" I try not to look at Eric, but I can feel his annoyance from here. "I didn't think he was that important. He just…I heard he was training them, but he seemed so unhappy. I only saw him a few times and the last time he was there, he mentioned they were getting out of control. He said Evelyn's plans weren't what they agreed upon. I saw him leaving more times than I saw him there."

I wait for Max to respond, and I wonder if he really will kill Four.

I wasn't from Dauntless, nor did I live here, but even I understand what he did was frowned upon. I couldn't imagine how he could stay and train the initiation class, when he'd been leaving to go direct another army.

One that could potentially attack here.

"I'm sure he wasn't happy. From our talk, he agreed to help with certain terms, and she took his offer and ran with it. He said the original agreement was to help them learn to fight, but it spiraled out of control when she realized what an army is capable of. Now, helping the factionless isn't punishable by death, but it's also not rewarded. Especially when you consider the circumstances." Max pauses, and his eyes flash to Eric right as he smiles. "Tell me about Coulter. How did you get so close to him?"

"Eric?" I look over at him, and he knows Max is talking about him. He juts out his chin, and he grinds his jaw down as he watches. "I just…I bumped into him in Amity one day. Then I saw him again, and I don't know. Things just happened. He knew I got attacked and he was the only one who helped me stand up to Landon. He showed me how to punch him."

Max cracks the barest hint of a smile at this.

"Did you tell anyone else about Landon?"

"I told my friends and…" I hesitate, because I'd planned to tell Johanna and I'd never really gotten very far with this. Though if she was helping the factionless, it was unlikely she'd have done much to help me. "Others knew. My parents, but they didn't believe me. My brother, and he offered to help. I told May and she hit him in the head the last time he came for me. I don't know, I guess maybe I didn't tell the right people. Eric said he would help me. He said you guys were watching the faction. I didn't want to say anything at first because my dad helped serve them dinner, but he didn't understand what was going on. He didn't know what they were planning. Eric kept saying Dauntless was watching and I guess I thought they would get to Landon first."

"We were watching. We still are. Harrison has been there almost every day. Eric has half the control room on it. We've sent soldiers out to patrol daily, and surprisingly, a few have talked to Landon. He was warned to stay away from you multiple times."

I stare at him, and I cross my arms to mirror Eric. "Do you know Evelyn has the serums? The ones that went missing."

"We know. It pains me to say this, but she's more dangerous than you're thinking." Max seems to have all the answers he needs because he smiles. He examines me intently, his stare lingering on Eric's jacket, and I have the feeling he's been watching Eric as well as the factionless. "As much as Eric would like to keep you here, with everything going on, I am asking that he takes you back to Amity. You're to stay there, in an attempt to keep our cover. If Four fails to show up for the next meeting and you aren't in Amity either, they may grow suspicious and flee. We'd then lose any lead we had."

"I'm supposed to go back and pretend like nothing happened?" My eyes widen, but he nods.

"You're to continue on just like normal. I'll assign a few soldiers to stay around your house, and to keep an eye on you and your family. If you're approached by one of the factionless, we'll be close by."

"This doesn't sound safe at all." I protest, but it dies when I consider I haven't seen my father yet. "I understand. I should go back. I need to see my dad."

"From what Harrison was told, he's doing alright. He hit his head on one of the tables in his office. They think the factionless may have attacked out of retaliation for Landon. A young man named Andy was involved."

"Andy?! He's harmless!" I blurt out. "He's in my initiation class."

"Eric said you might fail," Max changes the subject, and I find myself frowning at his casual knowledge of this. "Has anyone ever really failed the Amity initiation?"

"No. I guess I'll be the first," I respond, disheartened as ever. "Maybe…maybe Eric can wave once I join the factionless and their army. At least I'll really have some insider info for you then."

Max doesn't like my joke, but he does look over at Eric. "If you were to fail, it's highly unlikely you'd be made factionless. Or that you'd stay factionless. If you did fail, perhaps we could reward your bravery for helping us. You've given Eric more information than some of the soldiers."

This makes me feel slightly better, though I'm not sure which part.

"Thank you for talking with me. I'll have Eric drive you home, and once he's…convinced of your safety, he'll return here."

"You're welcome," I don't really know what he expects me to say, and I don't have many options.

Dauntless is not my home, no matter how much I didn't belong in Amity. I needed to go home and see my father, and it wouldn't be right for me to stay here while he was hurt.

So I smile, uncross my arms, and follow Max back over to Eric.

His hands are warm.

They find my waist as he helps me step up onto the running board of the truck. When I look at him, his eyes find mine, and he couldn't look less happy.

Despite having found out his least favorite person in the world was helping Evelyn and getting to punch him in the face, Eric is not in a good mood. Max had walked me back over to him, and in the world's most authoritative voice, told him to take me home. It was strange to see someone with more power than Eric, and Eric must not be able to tell him no.

His expression darkened, and he flatly told me to follow him. I don't know if Eric had plans for the rest of our day, but his expression stayed irate, and it only worsened once Jason and Rylan said goodbye.

I find myself reluctant to climb into the truck, and Eric knows it.

"Everly, get in. We have to leave." He sounds exasperated, but it's not aimed at me.

"I just have one question. What if…what if Landon comes back? You don't think he's gonna want revenge for being made factionless?" I pause as my foot slips, and Eric steadies me. He's still not dressed in his uniform, and this somehow makes it all the worse. "What if he kills me this time?"

"He won't." Eric answers harshly, digging his fingers into my waist. "I won't let him. I'll kill him myself if I have to."

He stares at me, grey eyes so dark they almost look blue, and I still have to look up at him. "Do you promise?"

My words echo what I asked him last night in a way, but they also reveal that I've accepted this fate for Landon. His life is not mine to take, but it is Eric's.

Eric made a vow to protect the factions, and Landon falls into the category of doing harm to the factions.

It's not a hard decision for him.

He leans in until his forehead is pressed against my hair, and his nose touches mine. He inhales slowly, and his lips are warm when they brush mine lightly, for just a second. Our night together flashes through my mind, and my eyes close when he nods.

"I do."

If there was any doubt that Eric didn't approve of Max's plan, it's all gone when Eric parks the truck, and sits there. He makes no move to get out, no move to come open my door and help me climb down, and no move to send me back into the Amity faction.

It looms before us, bathed in the slowly waning sunlight, with the occasional member walking through.

For a minute, we sit in silence, until Eric's phone rings.

He answers with all the enthusiasm of a zombie, and his gritted out yes hints that someone is asking if we've arrived.

"Make sure you have the others in place. If anything happens, this is on you, not me, understood?" He hangs up before the person can answer, and he throws the phone onto the seat. "Max wants to make sure I really took you back to Amity."

"Where else would I go?" I look at him, his fingers pressed to his temples and his eyes shut, and he scowls. "Do you have another house?"

"He thought I might have taken you to Erudite." Eric mutters, and he opens his eyes. "I want you to know, this is not my idea. Max and Tori believe Evelyn would notice if you went missing."

"What about Four?" I slide closer to Eric, having spent most of the ride watching him grind his jaw in annoyance. "Are you going to kill him for helping her?"

Eric glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and his lips turn up. "Not today. Maybe in the future. Max wants him to keep showing up so we can find her. It's the least he can do, considering he's been training them. They're sending him in a few days."

"So he would just go and…see what Evelyn says? What if he tells her they're watching her army?"

Eric looks down at me, and he gestures for me to come even closer. "Then I'll kill him for sure. He's already walking a fine line. It's likely he'll be tracked, and with the soldiers watching, there's nowhere for him to go."

I slide over until I'm right next to him, and he turns to face me. "Try to stay away from all of them. I know that's impossible for you, but just go see your dad, go to your class, and stay busy."

"Are you coming back in two weeks?" I dare to look right at him, wondering if he would. He'd already gotten what he wanted, and I didn't know if he thought I had much more to offer. I thought I did, but he might have been in it only so we could sleep together. "Or was last night…"

"Oh, I'll be back in two weeks," Eric answers slickly. "This isn't over. Far from it. I told you I was coming to get you, and I'm going to. Last night was…" he pauses, and he reaches for me, grasping my face in his hands, and smiling. "it was only the beginning."

I smile without thinking, and I kiss him without thinking, too.

My lips press against his, and for one heartbeat, it's warm and slow.

Then, just like he went after Four, he comes after me. My head hits the seat as his whole body crashes into me, and he kisses me so frantically his teeth hit mine. He ravages my lower lip, then moves to my jaw, my neck, and he struggles to get the heavy jacket off. His grunt of frustration mirrors my own, and he comes to a dead stop when his phone rings.

We both pause to look at it, his hands in my hair and his chest pressing me back, and he slides one hand over to pick it up.

The name Daniel flashes across the screen, and he quickly declines it.

"It's no one."

Eric returns to kissing me, violent and vicious, but it suits him.

Our separation is not ideal, nor is it his idea.

I think of this when he finally does get the jacket off, and his fingers move beneath the dress, how despite the tough and impossible exterior he gave off, sometimes, Eric is woefully desperate.

"He's not…he's not actually awake."

My good spirits are dampened the minute I return home.

Dizzied from saying goodbye to Eric, I'd walked home alone. He explained he couldn't walk with me because it would look a little too suspicious, and I hated this. I hated the way his hands lingered, his stare lingered, and his scowl matched mine. I wasn't his equal in any way, but I felt like I'd gotten him to bend a little and leaving him at the truck while I returned to a life I didn't want wasn't fair.

He wanted to walk me home.

His fingers flexed with the itch to make sure I got home safely, but Max's orders buzzed in his ear, and he ultimately was forced back into his truck.

I'd walked through the faction like nothing happened. I smiled, waved, fixed my hair from Eric's rough grasp in it, and it took me until I was halfway to my house to realize my dress was not the one I'd left in. Even more telling, was the heavy jacket and my bare legs.

The weird part was this dress felt right.

I liked the fabric, I liked the color, and I liked how I felt stronger. I still liked the pink dresses and I still would be happy to slide one over my head, but the dark dress felt like no one could mess with me. It was the boost I needed to walk right past a tiny clearing half hidden by trees and shrubs and to ignore the set of eyes there.

They could have been anything. A small child, an animal, even a farmer, having some quiet time during his day, but my instinct told me it was someone watching me. I pressed on, not bothering to even acknowledge them, and I walked inside fully ready to see my father.

Instead, I found my mother looking like she'd been crying, and Harrison.

Neither mentioned my dress, and if anything, Harrison smiled slightly at it.

"Where is he?" I glance around the house, waiting to see some sign of him. I had assumed he was here, or maybe even upstairs, but it hits me that the house is oddly silent. "Where is Dad? They told me he was attacked?"

The silence is thick.

I can almost feel it against my skin, like someone is holding me in place. No one asks where I was, and no one asks me anything. My mother glances at Harrison, then finally at me.

"He's not here. They took him to Erudite. He kept saying his vision was blurry and his head hurt, and I couldn't do anything," she answers lowly, and her voice is fragile enough to snap. "He was attacked last night. Whoever came for him, they knew he was working late. He was helping Andy with something, and… they attacked them both. When I got to him, all he kept saying was how wrong it was that he didn't believe you. Andy is fine but shaken up."

Her words spark a nerve in me, not because my father was attacked, but that he really hadn't believed me. He'd brushed it off saying he knew Landon, and Landon was incapable of such rage.

"Andy was able to give us a description of him. They're still looking for…for…"

"Was it Landon?" I step closer to them, and oddly enough, I find myself standing more by Harrison than my mother. He looks at me for just a second, and his nod is enough to make my head spin. "It was him, wasn't it? You're serious? Has anyone found Landon?"

My voice rises up, and I feel dizzy.

Landon.

Landon was close to my father. He was so close that he had often joined our family for dinner. He helped my father build the deck, fix the patio, string lights. He and Jerry were regulars, almost a silent part of the family. Even when I made the decision to not marry Landon, it was impossible to get rid of him.

But him hurting my father was incomprehensible.

"Do you know where he is?" I look up at Harrison, and there's an odd connection. It might be the dark clothes, or maybe it's the incredibly overwhelming thought that he was part of this family, too. Standing beside me, his dark uniform can hide a lot of things, but not the color of his eyes, the darker parts of his hair, or the same build that Forrest has.

It can't hide the fact that he's so close to my mother, that I have a feeling I've interrupted them.

"This is my fault, Everly. I…I should have been honest with him. I was honest, years ago. But not lately and this just…" My mother tries to say something, but she can't finish.

So Harrison finishes for her.

"He's in good hands. We had him sent to see their head neurologist. He's been saving patients for years. We explained what happened, told him Hank is an important part of the community, and he moved everything around to see him. He should be calling sometime soon for an update."

"Daniel?"

I blurt out his name, making this easy connection about Eric's father, and the strangeness of this chance encounter isn't lost on me.

Or Harrison.

His eyes lock on mine, and he nods.

"Do you know him?"

That question seems to be a good one these days, but unfortunately, I don't.

"I saw a picture of him once." I answer, and the rage and panic tapers down just a little. Eric hadn't spoken highly of his father, but at least he'd admitted he knew what he was doing. "I've never met him."

"Well, that's for the best. Most people meeting him are having some pretty serious medical complications. He's a good guy. Very dedicated to learning everything he can about the brain."

"Can we go see him?" I look at my mother, and she looks at Harrison. They go back and forth, silently, but eventually Harrison tells me no. "Why? Can't you drive us there?"

"They said they'll call Harrison as soon as they have word that he's stable enough for visitors. He wasn't feeling so well on the drive over. They said he fell asleep and hadn't woken up since he got there. I'm sure Dr. Coulter is doing everything he can to help," my mother answers, and I bet it kills her he's not here.

Despite whatever was going on between them, the uneasy tension that often stretched on longer and longer, at some point, she had loved him.

It also had to feel like a failure that she couldn't help him. Her expertise only ran so far, and head trauma wasn't included.

"Where is everyone?" I glance around expecting to see my brothers and sisters, but there is no one here. "Are they upstairs?"

"They're with May. Zander is with Jerry. They'll probably stay the night there." My mother looks distraught, and even more so when Harrison reaches in his pocket. He pulls out his phone, and he answers it much nicer than Eric answered his.

I wait patiently, and two minutes later, Harrison announces he's taking my mother to Erudite, and I am to stay here.

The unfairness of the situation worsens as the night goes on.

I lie in bed, alone, and I scowl at the ceiling.

Harrison and my mom had left hours ago. This was fine, but she has no way of contacting me. She could call me from Harrison's phone, but that would let her know I have one, and I had a feeling he was going to keep that a secret.

They'd left together, Harrison guiding her out of the house and instructing me to lock the door, and I'd watched them out the window until I couldn't see them anymore. They walked along the path in silence. Even though he was taking her to see her husband, I couldn't help but notice they walked closely. Easily. There was no stress to her when she looked up at him, and only pure concern when he looked at her.

His affection was clear, and it was a slap in the face.

Harrison showed up so easily. He wove in and out of Amity like he owned the place. He wasn't uncomfortable or afraid of being seen here, and he didn't bother to try to hide that he knew my mother. My little brother.

Forrest.

Me.

The thought makes me sit upright, and I throw the covers off me. I leave my room before I can stop and decide if I want to know this information, and I run downstairs. The house is empty, a weird sight when I get to the bottom step, and I expect someone to pop out. No one does.

I head to the bookshelf, and my stare flies from book to book. It takes me a few minutes to find the notebook where I'd shoved it, and I take it back upstairs with me. I clutch it to my chest, still expecting someone to poke their head around the corner and ask for something. I make it to the top of the stairs, I pause, and I almost take the book back downstairs.

I don't.

Once I'm back in bed, I open it up, and I resume reading where I'd left off.

The percentages are still there, neatly listed and telling, and they make a little more sense. I'd taken the aptitude test with a bored looking, random guy dressed in dark maroon. He didn't say much, and when I opened my eyes, he was typing frantically and side eyeing me.

"Amity."

He said the word with distaste, like it was bitter. He side eyed me again and kept typing. A brief glance at the screen showed a box for errors, and he quickly cleared it out. It was so fleeting I almost missed it, and at the time, I thought nothing of it.

From what I'd heard, the computers malfunctioned routinely. They were newer, loaded with a fresh update from Erudite, but not always reliable.

"You can go now. Good luck." The guy droned on, and his fingers never stopped moving.

I wondered if my test had shown something else, something he was passing off as a malfunction of a system designed to pick my fate for me.

Still, I had picked Amity. I had chosen to stay here, feeling like I had to. If I went against the faction I most identified with, I would be wrong. Choosing to stay here was wrong, too. Maybe there was no right answer, and maybe that's why Four had decided to help Evelyn. Maybe there was something to be said about not fitting in one hundred percent, though her methods were completely wrong.

I chew on my lip as I flip through more pages, and this time, I recognize a few of the drawings. There is the large open area where I'd spoken to Max, labeled as The Pit. The Chasm, a roaring waterfall that I didn't see but Christina mentioned. A receipt from Clyde's, for two beers, one glass of wine, a turkey sandwich, a rack of ribs, and a plate of chocolate cake. The entire meal comped and Harrison's signature at the bottom, leaving a generous tip. The next page has an invitation to a Leadership Dinner, from years ago, with the name Eden written on it.

The menu.

The seating chart.

A thank you card, for uniting the factions during a time when peace is needed.

A photo of them together: Harrison and my mother, smiling, both dressed up. Her dress is white, his suit is black. She is so young that it looks like me sitting there, and he is young enough that it looks like he's just taken on the role of Leader. He reminds me of Eric, the sharp haircut and the sharper smile, but all I can focus on is that they look happy.

My heart speeds up as I flip further, skimming the pages of proof that I can't look at.

I stop on one that's earmarked, and my stomach drops.

There, in the same style of photo that hung in my father's office, is a picture. It's not of my father and I, but it is.

It is Harrison holding me.

I recognize myself right away, and not just because my name is written to the side. I have on a dress that my mother still had. My sisters never wore it, even though she'd saved it. The sundress is pink: long and ruffly and slipping off one shoulder. My hair is a mess of long dark curls that fall in my eyes, and my smile is bright.

Almost as bright as Harrison's.

Behind us, grinning widely and trying to get in the picture, is Forrest.

I slam the book shut. Then I open it again. Then I slam it back shut, unwilling but totally willing to admit this is why Harrison felt familiar. Why I wasn't afraid of him. Why I wasn't afraid of Eric. Maybe I subconsciously knew the dark uniform, and maybe I subconsciously knew it wasn't something to fear. I associated it with affection, because the man holding me was wearing it.

My eyes start to burn, because it's obvious Harrison loves me. Or had loved me. His eyes are so happy and alive, and he holds me against his chest, beaming at whoever was taking the picture. The very house I live in now is in the background, only confirming that Harrison was here more than he wasn't. I only stare at it until my phone rings, and I keep my gaze on it while I reach for the phone.

I expect it to be my mother, but it's not.

"How well do you know Harrison?"

I ask Eric once he grunts my name and asks if I'm alright. I told him no, I wasn't alright, and he had no good answer for that.

He didn't sound completely alright himself.

"Why?"

"Have you worked with him for a long time?" I flip further into the book, but these pages make my chest hurt. There are all kinds of things stuck in here –cards and letters, a lengthy apology letter for something I don't understand, and a final photo of me and Harrison down by the lake –and all of them more than prove he is my father. The next page is a list of dates, like someone was keeping track of something, and the final date is my third birthday. "How long have you been a leader?"

Eric is silent.

I hear him sigh, and had I not spent the night with him, I would imagine he was in his office. He might be, but I get the impression he's at home, especially when the soft shuffling sound tells me he's sitting in bed.

"I became a leader at eighteen. After initiation. So, six years." Eric's answer is flat and hesitant. "Harrison was a leader before me. I didn't know him until I started working with him."

"What is he like?" I sink back against the pillow, and I wait for him to answer. "Is he…nice?"

"I wouldn't…I suppose he's nice. He's a little out there. He's our lead for battle and tactical planning. Harrison's main job is to train the patrol squads to prepare for battle. All the patrol squads fall under his umbrella of responsibility. Some of the squad leaders worship the ground he walks on, others…find him a lot to handle, though really, he's a brilliant military strategist." Eric exhales again, and I can almost see the look of frustration on his face. "Everly, are you…what about your father? Have you heard anything? Four claims he knew nothing about him being attacked, and he sends his sincerest apologies. You can take that however you want."

I nod, not sure what to think. My impression of Four was that his mother's work had started as one thing, then spiraled out of control to the point where he couldn't stop it. I don't think he had the authority to tell her who she could attack, but my father didn't deserve to get hurt.

Not for any reason.

"I don't know. My mom left with Harrison to go see him and they haven't come back. My brothers and sisters are at May's and Zander is with Jerry. I feel like… this is partially my fault, or totally my fault. I feel like I might never see him again. They said he fell asleep and hasn't woken up. But I also …" I pause, and Eric waits patiently. "I think Harrison might be my real father."

For the millionth time, Eric is quiet.

"I was asking about Harrison because every time I see him and my mom, I feel like they're in the middle of something. Like they have a secret and they're not so careful about it and everyone knows but me."

Eric is still quiet. The only reason I know he's there, is because every so often, there's a tapping of something.

"I found a picture of him and me when I was little and-"

"Everly," Eric interrupts, and there's more than a hint of hesitation in his tone. "I'm not the one who should be telling you anything about him. All I know is he spent a lot of time in Amity, and it was rumored he had a family there but he never said much about it. I never thought anything of it until he asked what I was doing with you."

"He did?" I sit back up, pressing the phone closer. It doesn't put me any closer to Eric, but in some way, it feels like it does. "What did he ask?"

"What my intentions were." Eric's answer is so dry that it makes me smile, despite the solemn events going on. "Why I was going to Amity. Was I bringing you to Dauntless. Couldn't someone else go?"

"Oh," I like this, and I wish I could have seen Eric's face. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him to mind his own business." Eric retorts, but it's good natured. "I told him you weren't happy in Amity, and…I'm thinking you picked the wrong faction. You barely flinched when I bashed Four's head against the wall."

"Yeah well, my encounters with him haven't been all that great. He could have stopped Evelyn before this got out of hand but I don't think he would have. I think he just said it because he wanted me to leave before I could tell you." I think back to seeing him in Dauntless. His panicked plea for me to leave was for his own benefit, not mine. "Do you really think he'll help you?"

"He doesn't have a choice." Eric replies lowly. "He either helps or I kill him. Maybe I'll kill him anyway. Once I have Evelyn, I'll decide what I'm doing with him. He hurt you. Even though he didn't come after you himself, he trained the asshole who did. He let things escalate until he couldn't stop it, and he took no responsibility for it. My job is to make him understand what he's done. And I will. On my terms."

"Does everyone have to agree with you?" I remember someone said they voted on things, and perhaps Four's fate would fall to one of them. "Or can you just…handle him yourself?"

"I can kill him whenever I want. For years, I looked for a reason and now I have one." Eric's voice is a little lighter now, and I can picture him shrugging. I feel a rush of warm appreciation that he recognizes I'd been hurt. "At best, we make him factionless and he can live out the life he wanted with his new family. At worst, I kill him and make an example out of him in front of the Dauntless faction."

"Sounds…intense, but I wish he'd told her to stop. I don't know why he didn't." I pull the covers up higher, settling into bed and praying I don't fall asleep. "Harrison told me your dad is helping mine."

The mention of his dad makes him fall silent, but not for very long.

"He is. When he called in the truck, he was calling to ask if I knew who Hank was. He said the last name was familiar." Eric says all this quickly, then clears his throat. "He told me he'll keep me updated but I haven't heard anything. I'll call you if I do. Or I'll text you, if you're sleeping. Which I'm shocked you're not."

"Yeah well, I stayed up late the other night. It permanently changed my bedtime," I laugh, and to my surprise, Eric snickers.

"You did stay up late. Who knew you had it in you, Amity?" Eric drawls.

"No one. Not even me. I agree, and I think of his oversized bed and how I'd fallen asleep on him. "Are you in bed now?"

"I am. No one is even here taking up all my pillows." Eric sounds like he finds the whole situation hilarious, though the separation makes my head hurt. "You should go to bed. I'm sure when you wake up, your father will be home. And…as for Harrison, just…you could ask him the next time you see him."

"When will that be?" I lie back, listening as the faint sounds from his TV come through the phone. It sounds like he's watching the same show he was when I was there. I didn't really understand the humor behind any of it, but some parts were funny. "When will I see you again?"

"Desperation isn't cute, Amity."

"Then you probably shouldn't have sat in your truck sulking before you left." I point out, and his answer is a low, rough burst of sharp laughter.

"Funny. Go to bed. I'll call you if Daniel has any updates."

"Okay, fine. Goodnight, Eric." I say his name quietly, wishing I wasn't so tired. I wanted to stay up in hopes of talking to him longer, but it sounded like he was going to bed, too. I picture him lying back on his dark pillows, with the phone pressed to his ear, talking to me.

It's a nice image, and I think he agrees.

He says goodnight quickly, but he also says my real name, warm and quiet and oh so familiar.

In the morning, I wake up to an empty house.

I eat breakfast at the island, alone, and I check my phone. The action is brazen, given anyone could come bursting in, but no one does. My brothers aren't here. My sisters don't return. Not even Zander shows up, shrieking to claim the cereal with the marshmallows.

I don't have any new messages, either.

I finish my bagel with zero enthusiasm, and I have no choice but to start my day.

And the next day.

And the next.

One early morning, I sit in Forrest's kitchen watching the snow through the window.

It drifts slowly, coating everything in a world of white, but next to me, Willow is a lovely shade of green.

Despite looking like she might throw up at any moment, she sits at the kitchen table, gently coaxing me to eat breakfast. The irony of this isn't lost on me; she's skinnier looking than the last time I saw her, and she cheerfully informs me her appetite is nonexistent.

But she doesn't care.

She's completely and utterly in love with my brother, and even more in love with the idea that they will be a family.

They are a family, but to her, having a baby with him means a permanent family. I want to smack the idea right out of Willow, her blonde hair cascading everywhere while she pours syrup on a waffle for me, because Forrest is so fiercely in love with her, he'd commit any act of violence to keep her safe. He'd told me this, verbalizing just how much he cared for her, but I wonder if she's still worried.

After years of being factionless, I suppose this could all feel temporary.

"How are you feeling?" I accept the waffle with a smile, figuring I might as well eat. "You look a little…"

"Queasy? I am. Everything makes me throw up. Forrest has started showering the second he comes home. The other day, he was helping someone with the cows and he came home smelling like a weird combination of milk and livestock." She shrugs, and she looks almost apologetic at her next words. "I threw up when he came in the door."

'Doesn't he normally smell like that?" I smile while I take a bite, watching her try not to laugh.

"Funny." Forrest rolls his eyes. He comes clomping down the stairs, and he plops down in the seat next to her. Once settled, he reaches without looking to pull Willow closer. I watch them carefully, noticing Forrest is unusually clean looking, and his hair is pulled back. "I see Amity's finest comedian is here."

"Yeah well, how can I tease you when you moved out?" I smile brightly, and I have to admit Willow's waffles are good. I hadn't slept very well lately. It left me feeling weird and off balance, and pretty uninterested in eating. "Thanks so much for breakfast, Willow. I'm sorry I didn't come over sooner."

"Oh, no worries at all." Willow beams, and she practically collapses against Forrest. She drinks a slow sip of tea, and I recognize the ginger smell immediately. "I know things have been…"

She pauses, and Forrest looks at me when she doesn't finish.

"Have you heard anything?" I ask, hoping he has.

"You're the one with a phone. I haven't heard a word. I even tried to ask Johanna if we could drive out there. I figured I could go to the hospital. I've been there before. We took a whole bunch of deliveries there the other day. They've been having meetings and needed some shit catered. I think Courtney's aunt made some cakes for someone's birthday. I promised I'd be quick, but Johanna said she didn't think they'd let anyone in the hospital."

"I haven't heard anything, either. I was thinking maybe Harrison would call. He took mom there." I say Harrison with a little more emphasis, but only Willow blinks. Forrest shrugs, and reaches for his own fork. "What about you? Did you see him?"

"Harrison?" Forrest takes a huge bite, and it's clear he's stalling. "I see him all the time. He's the one who suggested I open up a bar here. He said he has a business model proven to work."

"I think he owns a bar in Dauntless." I flash back to Rylan saying Harrison owned Clyde's. "Actually, I ate there when I went."

"We heard you got stuck for questioning." Forrest grins. "I see Eric is resorting to petty lies to try and keep you there."

"Who'd you hear that from?"

"Harrison." Forrest laughs, and even Willow smiles. "He was here really early the morning after the Leadership Dinner. I saw him for a minute, he left, then I heard he came back once dad was attacked."

"He did." I stare at Forrest and I wait for him to say more. "Don't you have something you want to tell me?"

"I don't know. I'm not the one who spent the night in Dauntless. How is Eric's apartment? Is it the black dungeon I dreamed it was?" Forrest tries hard not to laugh, but it's useless. "Every time I see him, I just picture someone whose closet has four shirts and they're all the same shirt, perfectly spaced apart from each other. Ten pairs of boots. A rack of guns by the bed."

"Yes, that's exactly it." I roll my eyes. "I meant, don't you have something you want to tell me about Harrison? I found a notebook and—"

"I'm pretty sure you already know the answer to what you're asking me. Hank's not my dad, he's not your dad, and he's not Zander's. It's pretty obvious. Dark haired kids, light haired kids. Some of us are brave, the others are chicken shit."

"Wesley almost had a panic attack the other day when the soldiers showed up." I blink, trying to downplay having the answer I wanted. Somehow, I felt even more thrown off than ever. I'd been wondering for so long now, but having Forrest confirm my theory still feels strange. "He's really our father? What about…dad? What about…how is Zander Harrison's?"

I don't exactly know how I feel about this.

I don't dislike the idea. From the few times I'd really talked to him, I'd always liked Harrison. I felt like I knew him more than I did, and I could see the similarities where I didn't before.

But there's definitely a sting of betrayal, from a few angles.

"Well," Forrest glances down at Willow, and the waffle sticks in my throat. "It's not exactly my story to share, but I know mom and Harrison were together before her and Hank. Harrison planned on coming here or she was going there, and something happened. He was called away for months, and it kept getting extended. They had me, then you, and then…. mom couldn't do it on her own. Hank came along and was willing to step in and the rest is history. There's a gap between you and the others, then a gap until Zander. It's not rocket science to figure out. Everyone in Amity accepts it because no one really cares."

"But Zander is little." I point out like he's forgotten. "He's not…"

"People make all kinds of decisions, Everly. I don't think Zander was what anyone was expecting, and once mom had him, she started drinking the peace serum by the cupful. I think she wasn't willing to admit she wasn't happy, and neither was Hank. If you really watched them, they were at odds more often than not."

"But…"

"They still are. Ever since you started initiation, they've been acting like strangers. Mom seems fine that you don't want to be here, but Hank was personally insulted you didn't excel at child rearing."

I must look startled, because Willow shakes her head, then stops immediately.

"Hank is very nice. He helped my family a lot. He always spoke very highly of his family, including you guys." Willow offers, and her contribution is sweet.

She's not wrong.

He is very nice.

Almost too nice, to have been attacked.

"If I can go see him, do you want to go?" I ask, but I know the answer.

Forrest nods yes, and so does Willow.

"Okay. I'll keep you posted if anyone calls." I sigh into my waffles, and no one pushes for any more info.

Forrest asks about Leif and Wesley and Paisley and Holly, and the conversation takes a sharp turn toward how Zander has been demanding to sleep in their bed, followed by May smacking Landon in the head with a shovel.

To my surprise, May's actions are one of the few things that actually makes sense these days.

Initiation takes a turn for the strange.

Jerry takes over, though his watery smile tells me he doesn't feel right filling in for my father. He has Zander with him, who rudely pretends to not know me, and they both walk around trying to talk to each person and reassure them things are safe. When they get to me, Jerry looks as miserable as Eric did when he dropped me off.

"I'm so sorry, Everly. Have you heard anything?"

"No." I shake my head, and I watch Zander duck behind him, and turn right down the row of plants. "It's been three days. Do you want me to take Zander home? You don't have to watch him. It's nice of you, but…. he's fine with me. Or I can take him to Mable."

Jerry looks surprised, but he shakes his head no. "It's alright. I wanted to do my part to help and really, he's fine. He's been a good distraction. He said he wants to go to May's tonight to see Leif but he's very curious about how many chickens Carole has. I told him it wasn't safe to go over there, but he said his friends did so he could, too. He only comes over to play. He's been staying at Forrest's at night."

His distraught expression stays that way, even as Zander gleefully announces he's found a worm and goes on to kick over the plants he's standing by.

"Does he mean Jason and Rylan? I don't really think he knows what's going on. My mom left in a hurry and hasn't come back yet. I thought maybe someone would try to get ahold of me or Forrest, but he hasn't heard from them, either." I stare at Zander, and he ducks away, sticking his tongue out at me. His loyalty has shifted to whoever will give him the most attention, and that person is Jerry. Forrest had tried to wrangle him away more often, and he managed for a few hours. But the second Willow gave Zander a bath and got him ready for bed, he was already planning his return to visit Jerry. "Zander, come home tonight. We can call your friends and see if they've heard anything."

"Jerry has popcorn," Zander calls out, and the worm is in for a surprise when he flings it across the room. "Do you have popcorn?"

"Uh, sure."

I answer without even knowing if we had any actual food in the house, but my head felt foggy. I was worried about my father, and no news wasn't feeling like good news.

The snow wasn't helping.

I loathed the cold, and I found myself shivering all night, no matter how many blankets I had.

"Are you sure, Everly? I'll bring him home for dinner to you or Forrest. How about that? But if you need anything, anything at all, will you come get me?"

"Of course!" I promise, though his time with me is done.

He turns to tell Zander to stop throwing worms, and to finish making his rounds. A half hour later, he dismisses the class, and sends everyone home promising tomorrow will be better.

It's not.

The blood is everywhere.

For the second time this month, someone stands in our kitchen, dripping blood all over the floor. After Rylan's run in with Carole, we'd worked to scrub the floor clean. My mom must have mopped at some point, and her efforts are ruined as Four winces and another gush resumes. He looks at me despondently, and the only thing I can do is stare back, until Wesley yells that the toaster has caught fire.

"What happened to you?"

I eye him warily, not trusting him any more than Landon. The only difference between them is Four looks genuinely remorseful, and Landon had not.

"Who did this?"

I grab some more paper towels, and I head to the sink to wet them. I have nothing else here that will help him, and even our small clinic won't have anything. My mother isn't home to stitch anything, and I have no intentions of trying to replicate what the nurse in Dauntless had done.

From the sink, it looks like he's hit his head again. There are a few melty snowflakes from his trek over here, but they fade into the gash. It bleeds a little more, and he presses on it to try and stop it.

"Sorry, someone sent me here. They said Eden normally handles this sort of thing, but she isn't here and maybe you could help." Four doesn't look like he wants my help, nor is his sudden arrival welcome. I watch as he gingerly sits down, and I instruct Wesley to make him something to drink. "Eric sent me. I went to find Evelyn, and instead I found Colton, who thanked me for having him tracked."

"Did he attack you?" I add some soap to the paper towels, and I watch him do his best not to answer yes. "Well, no offense, but I think you deserve it. I've been attacked multiple times. He wasn't the worst of them, but none were all that fun."

He nods.

It's slow and painful as he carefully accepts the paper towels. Telling someone they deserved to get punched in the head wasn't normally me, but I have a hard time mustering up any sympathy for him right now.

"I don't disagree with you. He knows that Dauntless is tracking him. He's tried to take it out, but he can't find it. He thinks I sent Jason and Rylan to them, and he came right at me. I held him off for a while, but he got one good punch in that opened up the stitches and then bolted when he heard a noise. I'll be fine, I just have to get back to Dauntless."

"How did you get here?" I sit down at the table slowly, and Wesley hands Four a cup of tea. It's warm and sweet, and Four looks hesitant to drink it.

"There's nothing in it." Wesley tells him defensively. "But if you want something for your head, I could put…some….some…herbs."

"This is fine, thank you." Four reaches for the drink, and he catches me frowning. "I won't stay long. I just needed somewhere to wipe my face off. I have to call Eric and let him know where they are."

"So now you're working for him?" I tilt my head, and I smile at his grimace. "You hate that, don't you?"

"I think I'd rather he just kill me." Four answers dryly, and Wesley looks horrified. "Might have been easier than calling him Sir and reporting my every move."

"Is he tracking you?"

"Yes." Four's answer is quick, and he holds up his phone. The screen is lit up with Eric's name, and he answers it on the second ring with a curt snap. "I sent you their exact location. I didn't see Evelyn. She was nowhere to be found. It was only Colton and he had a few choice words for you."

He turns slightly, and his voice drops when he hisses he doesn't know where she is, and he's sure they could see where he was back in the control room. He argues with Eric, sounding daringly hostile, and it's clear this feud runs deep. He stands up to snap that whatever is going on is a dumb idea, and he only sits back down when he relents that he doesn't have a better plan.

"Why does everyone who's bleeding show up here? Mom isn't even here!" Wesley tries to whisper, scooting closer to me. "Everly, are you fixing his head?"

"I'm not fixing anything. He got himself into this mess, he can fix it." I answer flippantly, and I feel a tiny bit better. Not that he was attacked, but that he seems to be willing to try and correct his mistake of helping the factionless. "He might have messed up but he's got a second chance."

"Hardly." Four interrupts, and he slams the phone down on the table. It's not the shiny new one that I have, but a beaten-up piece of black plastic with a crack on the screen. "Eric will be here in five minutes. They were waiting, and they were about to go look for Colton. I warned him that will for sure blow his cover, so they're coming here instead. Eric has taken your attack and gone full force with it and half of Dauntless is looking for them. I would expect Landon to be dead by the end of the week."

"Seriously?" Wesley looks like he wants to yank the teacup back, and possibly run. "They're really coming here to kill someone?"

"He attacked your sister. More than once. He's lucky Eric has let him live this long," Four answers, but it's tight. "Whatever the case may be, this isn't going to go the way Eric thinks. He's igniting a war he might not be ready for."

Wesley and I stare at him, and in the background, the toaster sparks so loudly we all jump.

"I missed you."

Eric lifts me up, pressing me against my bedroom wall so his hands can snake into my hair. He kisses me deeply, his tongue sweeping across my lips and grinning when I encourage him to go on, and he lets go to take his jacket off. It falls to the floor with a heavy thud, and he laughs when my eyes widen.

"Max still insists you're safe here." Eric hisses, and his teeth find my earlobe. I lean into him, letting him bite and nip at my skin, because for the first time in days, I feel alive. "But I don't think you are."

Eric's arrival was expected only because Four told me he was coming here.

Shortly after Four announced this, his expression darkly annoyed, Eric showed up. He showed up with Rylan and Jason, and they frog marched Four out of the house to grill him on Evelyn while Eric asked how I was. Wesley snuck away to watch Four angrily explain that he needed to have Arlene redo his stitches and groan when he learned she wasn't working this evening. Eric seized the opportunity to walk upstairs with me, and before I could show him the notebook I'd been reading, he kissed me.

Mere days of separation created a slew of emotions, and most of them felt good. He was warm and solid, his leg nudging between mine, and his thigh tensing. His hands were everywhere; they ran through my hair, skimmed down my sides, pressed and touched as if he were making sure I was real. He smelled good, unlike the woods and pine, and more like his own bed, and I realized I had really missed him.

I hadn't let myself think of it, because I'd spent my days in a haze of worrying about my father. Worrying about Zander. Making sure my brothers and sisters were okay, checking in with May and being told to go home and get some sleep. Even my sleep was fractured, broken apart by faint hours when I thought I was sleeping, but I wasn't. The exhaustion was creeping bone deep, until this very moment.

Until Eric reached behind me to untie the soft fabric ties, and my dress spilled off like it was just waiting for him. He pulled it over my head, his own shirt following, and I felt myself slowly come back to life. My breathing hitched when he reached for the zipper on his pants, and he smirked when his fingers found the edge of the pale pink underwear.

My world sparked all kinds of colors when he pushed me back into my own sheets, clouds of white fluffy comforter swallowing him, and he laughed as he shoved it away.

He looked absolutely delighted as he parted my legs, and before I could tell him I had missed him too, he bit the inside of my thigh.

Having sex with him had been an experience, and so was holding his hand. Touching his hair. Tracing the piercing in his eyebrow. Walking in Dauntless with him, just the two of us, dressed alike, was a strange high I wasn't aware existed.

But this, the feeling of his mouth creeping higher, slowly licking and nudging soft skin, might just take the cake.

"I thought of you last night. In the shower," Eric murmurs, and my eyes close.

His confessions were starting to pile up, and I couldn't begin to pick a favorite. This man, so large and strong and unafraid, missed my presence. This wasn't just physical anymore, because he probably could fuck anyone he wanted without much effort. There were bound to be a few girls who wanted him or were willing to overlook the fact that he couldn't tell them how or what he felt, if that was anything.

But here he was, working his boxers down his legs while he licked in the very spot that would make me see stars.

My hands grasp his hair, running through the part and the heavy dose of gel, and his shoulders move. He rises up to get a better angle, and if his fingers felt good, his mouth feels even better.

This is hardly what I expected when Four said he was showing up, but I have no intention of stopping to ask how his day is going.

"I missed you, too." I groan, and his fingers dig into my thighs. The thought of his mouth between my legs would normally make me shove him away. He's closer than anyone has ever been, and the lazy teasing changes when my thighs tighten around his head. "Eric, I…"

I mean to tell him that I'm about to come against his face. It would be embarrassingly fast, but it feels so good that I can't form a complete sentence. He doesn't seem to care. He only moves so he can stroke himself, and my whine turns into me gasping his name, over and over, until I see black. Everything shatters, lovely and dizzy and even warmer, when I feel him pull away to move his mouth to my hip. My stomach. My ribcage.

I open my eyes to him kneeling between my legs, and he bends down to press his lips to the underside of my jaw. He takes one of my hands in his and stretches it above my head, hovering over me for a fraction of a second while he slides his fingers between mine. His eyes skate over my neck, then his head drops.

"They dropped off your dress."

His cheek brushes mine right as he pushes inside me, and the sensation is better than I remember. There's a moment of fullness, a completeness that he must feel too, because his head falls forward. He doesn't kiss me, but he stays there, closing his eyes until I say his name.

"I hung it up in the closet." He half groans this, and the very idea seems to spur him on. Was it the white fabric, soft and fragile and lovely, pressed against his dark uniform? Was it a reminder of our night together? Was it a memory of how good it felt to be wanted, on a different level, every time he reached for his jacket?"

Whatever the case may be, he doesn't last much longer.

A few quick thrusts later, his hips slam into mine, and the headboard hits the wall with a thud. He collapses on top of me with a heavy exhale, and he stays there until his breathing slows down. Mine follows suit. I nudge him gently, not entirely coherent or able to say much, and he falls into the pile of white sheets. Eric smiles sleepily, his own exhaustion fading away as I fumble to pull the covers up, and I reach for him.

I move closer so I can rest my head on his chest. His hand gracelessly moves my hair away, then trails down to my back. I'm dimly aware of him mumbling it was a good thing he locked the door, but I'm too tired to even laugh. I only hope that Forrest keeps Zander, and I decide Wesley will be fine on his own.

I fall asleep against Eric, one of my hands curled onto his chest, and my legs between his.

In the morning, I open my eyes when rough skin brushes against my cheek.

I blink away the heavy pull of sleep to see Eric above me, and he lingers for just a second before he says my name quietly. To my dismay, he is dressed. His uniform is back on, the dark collar smoothed out and buttoned up, and his hair is wet. He stays with his cheek against mine when I say his name, and his smile is tight.

"I'm heading back. Rylan is here."

"You're leaving?" I sit up abruptly, nearly knocking him out of the way. I reach up without thinking, struggling to keep the sheets on me as I yank him back down. I should have a little more self-restraint, but I don't.

Last night was the first night I'd slept without waking up. It wasn't so much that I was exhausted from my night with Eric, but the fact that I'd fallen asleep with him. There was no rush; no hurry to get dressed and attend a formal dinner that we never made it to, and no worry that someone was watching where he was. It felt safe, the two of us hidden away in Amity, and I went to bed without agonizing over how my father was, or if Landon was lurking in my backyard.

It was also the first night I wasn't freezing.

"I have to go back. Max called fifty-six times. Four's called twice. I'm not sure which is worse." Eric mumbles this as his hands cup the back of my head, and he doesn't kiss me. He lets me sink against him, his posture tensing for a split second before he relaxes. "Rylan just texted to say he's almost here."

"Oh." I keep my head pressed against his jacket, letting the disappointment really sink in. "I could walk you out."

"You have to stay here. Max knows I'm in Amity and he knows I'm with you and he's not happy. The last thing I need is him watching you walking me down the middle of the faction." Eric's answer is low, and heavy with displeasure. "If I can, I'm going to Erudite tonight."

His fingers stretch. They scrape down my back, pressing his fingerprints onto my skin, like the mark will be permanent.

"I called to ask how your dad is, but Daniel didn't answer. Camille said he was in surgery."

"Who's Camille?" I ask, and I press my face further into his jacket. He smells faintly like my shampoo, and the thought of him washing his hair with anything out of a pink bottle is entertaining.

"His assistant." Eric answers sharply, and his tone hints this is a personal subject. "I don't know why she wasn't in surgery with him or why she had his phone, but she said he'd call back and he hasn't."

"Do you like her?" I wonder out loud, and this time, his tensing up lasts longer.

His fingers press with a tension that's new, and he shakes his head.

"No."

I nod, because whoever Camille is, and whatever his father is doing, he isn't good with it.

"She's fine. Boring. Too close to him given their working relationship." Eric mutters, and I can tell he's about to leave.

The touch leaves my spine, and he leans down to press his lips to my hair. He stays there, until his phone rings. I can feel it vibrate as well, and he lets it go on so long it stops.

"I'll be back, Amity. It won't be much longer." His promise is soft. He says it the same way he said he'd keep me safe, and he lets go once the phone starts ringing again. "Try not to die."

"I'll do my best." I lift my head away from him, and he smirks. "Tell Rylan hi."

"I won't. Because then he's going to want to come inside." Eric announces, and he scowls when he glances at his phone. "Too late. He said Wesley let him in and can we stay for breakfast."

Eric scowls, and I find myself thrilled that he'll stay for just a little longer.

"Good. I can make you something." I offer, and I move to climb out of bed. I have no clue where he'd thrown my dress, and he looks up with pure disbelief. "What? I can cook something. Or…we have bagels."

"Bagels." Eric repeats, and insultingly, he doesn't look optimistic. "Great. I'll tell Max I was late getting back because we had to stop and get bagels. Sounds reasonable."

I smile when his phone rings loudly, and he lowly informs Rylan they can stay.

They don't.

By the time I throw on a dress and brush my hair and teeth, Rylan and Eric are waiting by the front door. Both are in a deep discussion, and Rylan's no thank you is the last thing he says before he realizes I'm walking over to them.

"Oh look, it's Everly! How funny that you stayed here and so did she."

"She lives here." Eric answers dryly, and he pretends not to hear when Rylan mutters for now.

"Can I ask you something, Everly? I see you are dressed for your day here, in a very…intense outfit." Rylan's attention flashes to me, then Wesley handing him a bagel, then back to me. He eyes my dress up and down, pale and long sleeved and far less fitted than the one Christina brought me, and he makes a face. "I just need to know, who is the target audience for these clothes? Haunted dolls?"

"Rylan." Eric snaps his name in pure exasperation, and he glares at him. "Take your bagel and let's go. We don't have much time."

"Where are you going?" I stop in front of them, and Rylan's dislike of the dress becomes more intense.

"Christian would say the fabric is hideous. Everly, text me your height. I'll have Christian work on a few things. He's making me a suit to wear for my anniversary. Which, if you'd like to come to the party, will be in a few weeks. I'm sure Eric will come get you. And then… not return you to your closet of nightmarish cult wear."

"Rylan, shut up. We're going to Erudite. One of their labs was attacked last night. Max is asking us to meet him there." Eric looks at me, and he holds my stare. "Another case of serum was stolen and it's not good. It means Evelyn is sitting pretty on a serum that will erase the memory of anyone injected with it. Which means you need to stay inside and not get attacked by anyone."

"You think she'd try to use it on me?" I stare up at him and I absolutely hate when he averts his eyes.

He looks at Rylan, and this time, Rylan's scrunched up face isn't at my dress, but at Eric's answer.

"Yes."


	18. The Market Place and Haunted Dolls

May's house is darker than I realized.

I've been inside a few times, but only as far as her living room. I never paid much attention to it; I'd run over to borrow some sugar or drop off dinner, and I didn't look too hard at anything. The outside was a generic, wooden Amity house and the inside was similar to ours. It had been built forever ago, just like all the others in our faction, and it was large.

Most of the assigned homes were designated for families. Not everyone loved communal living, and anyone willing to take care of the property could have one. They were built frequently, often with help from family and friends, and there was no rhyme or reason to how they were designed or set up. Ours was large enough to house all of us and then some, May's was just as big.

It was probably too spacious for her. The upstairs hinted there were plenty of rooms for anyone who wanted to stay and the downstairs went farther than I could see. There were rooms down here, presumably for guests, including my brothers and sisters.

I was a little surprised they'd chosen to stay with her, foregoing their own home in favor of staying here, but I could see why. May is closer to my mother's age, though she has no children of her own –only ducks – and works out in the fields part time. She's tough for living in Amity. She takes no shit from the younger farmers who prefer to screw around, and she oversees one of the more prosperous fields.

In the winters, she sometimes helps in the kitchens, but more often than not, spends her free time visiting some of the older members and making sure they are alright. She brings them whatever they need, does their shopping, cooks meals, and even helps them clean up. She is well liked, well respected, and unbeknownst to me, the only person Landon is afraid of.

I see the look in her eyes when she hands me Zander's clothes, a dark shirt and dark pants that he asked to be made darker, and her stare skips over me and out her large front window. Her curtains are black, heavy but pulled open so she can see the faction, and the chairs are dark, too.

Even her couch is black.

"Have you seen him? I swore I saw Landon by the lake, but I'm hoping I'm wrong."

"No, I haven't," I shake my head, wanting to ask her how on Earth she'd hit him in the head. She hadn't even flinched when she came for him, and had it not been for her, he might have succeeded. "Johanna said she made him factionless, but I wouldn't be surprised if he came back looking for me. He definitely has a reason to be mad now."

"Oh, he will." May squints, then shrugs. "Is Eric watching him?"

"Do you know Eric?" I ask curiously, and I try to solve the millionth puzzle I've been handed this month. "You came after Landon like…like you weren't afraid at all."

"I'm not. Why would I be afraid of some punk kid? I told you, I don't take kindly to anyone hurting people around here. Especially when they hold themselves in such high regard. I saw what he was doing. I heard his little stories. He wanted to destroy you so you had no choice but to accept his help." May pauses, and behind her, there's a large bookshelf against her wall.

It's not an unusual choice for her, but all her books have dark spines.

"Unfortunately for him, I have no patience for that shit. I learned how to defend myself a long time ago. I know you've tried, and I know Eric showed you, but sometimes, your opponent has the upper hand. And Landon is great at making sure he has the upper hand."

"Are you from Dauntless?" I narrow my eyes at her, and she winks.

"Back to Eric, yes, I know him. Cocky little fucker until it comes to you."

May moves past me, ignoring my surprised stare.

"What else do you know?" I clutch Zander's clothes tighter, and I follow her into her kitchen. She was making lunch when I showed up, and she'd stopped when I told her my family could come home. She swore they were no bother, and in fact, were keeping her busy, then asked if I could possibly wash Zander's favorite outfit and attempt to dye it black. "May, are you from there? Do you know Harrison, too?"

I wait for her to answer, vowing not to move until she does, and for once, someone in my life is straightforward.

"I am. I still have family Dauntless. I've learned a lot from them, including how to take care of myself. Every so often, I go visit. I've run into Eric there, and he's quite the interesting character. But I give the man credit, he goes after what he wants."

"So I've been told."

May throws me a knowing smile, and she resumes violently chopping up the vegetables for lunch. "You should ask him if he still believes in the testing. He was a big supporter of testing for divergence. I want to say he lost interest in it, though the rumor is they're harder to find these days. He goes back and forth between Erudite to see his aunt and she's desperate to test them. I do know Harrison, and he says she's not very happy he's been showing up empty handed."

"His aunt? He didn't tell me he has an aunt there." I wonder if I should ask him, but he'd left after announcing there is a chance Evelyn would try to erase my memory, and the look on his face told me he was oddly concerned about this scenario. It was rare he was bothered by anything, but this news clearly affected him.

If Evelyn did get to me, it was unlikely he'd find me in time.

I make a mental note that she knows Harrison, too.

"Jeanine. I'm not sure how many know she's his aunt. I don't think it's something he announces. The ties to Erudite go way back. It's a way to make sure Jeanine has the protection she wants, and a way to make sure Eric has the intel he wants. The last I heard, he was getting sloppy. He isn't answering to her as quickly as she'd like, and it's all because he has something else he's working on."

"Are you going to say that's me?" My stare meets hers, and she smiles widely. "He said he's coming back in a few weeks, but I don't know what he's going to do. I can't just go to Dauntless. Not to mention my mom and dad aren't back and…"

"I'll see if I can find out how they're doing. If anything, Eden should be back soon. If that man shows up to take you away from all this, you go with him. Run, if you have to. He's determined to keep you safe, and at the rate things are happening around here, it's what you need. I heard about the army Landon is helping to build. He's a moron, but sometimes the most dangerous ones have nothing to lose."

"You're not wrong. An army of factionless is terrifying. But I'd be leaving everyone and…"

"Everly," May interrupts, and she stops only to place the vegetables in a pan on the stove. "Take the risk. Trust me on this one. You don't want to be stuck here, married to someone who wants you to change to fit who they want. There's a reason Eric likes you, and if I were you, I'd find out what that reason is."

She waits until I nod, but her words make me nervous.

After what Landon had said about how terrible a wife I'd be, I can't help but wonder if the reason Eric is interested isn't because I'm amazingly hilarious or he likes how brave I am.

I have the faintest, dizzying feeling there is a chance he likes me because he had seen my test results, and they are just what he's looking for.

An hour later, I swear at the sink full of black dye.

I swirl Zander's clothes around once more, then leave them to soak. I'd thrown in a few extras, hoping he appreciated his new Dauntless inspired wardrobe, and I hope they turn out. I glance around the kitchen impatiently, and my stare lands on the phone. It sits there silently, but when I pick it up, his message is right there.

I stand next to the island with a dumb smile on my face, because in this moment, there's no way Eric is only concerned because of some measly percentage.

He asks me how I am, then very bluntly tells me he's been thinking about me, followed by a demand that I stay inside and absolutely do not answer the door for anyone but him.

"Do you really believe in haunted dolls?"

This time, Rylan is joined by Jason. The three of us sit on the wooden fence that runs along Jerry's property, watching him and Zander feed the chickens. Zander yells in pure delight every time a chicken wanders close, and he very carefully tries to touch one. Jerry warns him a few are temperamental, but Zander doesn't listen.

He stalks one, getting closer and closer, then yelping when it turns to squawk at him.

"You don't?" Jason eyes me like I'm insane. He takes a sip of his coffee, brought from Erudite in a black cup with a black straw, and he shrugs. "You should. You probably have one in your house."

"Oh, there's definitely some haunted objects in there," Rylan agrees, but he lapses into silence, drinking his own coffee.

I wasn't at all mad when they showed up a few days after Eric left.

After Eric announced Evelyn had yet another case of serums, including the memory loss one which he pointed out there was no way to undo, I fell into a downward spiral of panic.

It was understandable. At best, I was limited in how I could handle things. I could take a cue from May and go buy a few shovels, or I could choose to barricade myself in the house. I could ask Forrest to move back in. I could call Harrison and demand he bring my mother home and stay with the family until Evelyn was arrested, but I couldn't quite bring myself to go through with any of those plans.

I tried to remember what Eric had shown me in regard to punching someone, and I tried to figure out a way to take someone down who was larger than me. I came up with minimal ways for this to work, and all of them required me to be the attacker.

Right after I watched Eric and Rylan head out, I spent my entire day agonizing over going to initiation, wincing every step of the way, and frantic that someone was going to jump out of the trees. I finally had enough of being afraid by dinner time, but it didn't improve my mood. Eric didn't answer my phone call, but he did call back right as I was about to fall asleep, and he quickly informed me that he was sending some soldiers to be in Amity for the next few days. I was hoping he meant himself, but instead, Jason and Rylan knocked on the door around eight in the morning, and brightly told me they were assigned to stay with me.

They were reasonably thrilled with their assignment, and the promise being in Amity brought, but unfortunately for them, my day was far from interesting.

They went with me to initiation. They hung around the greenhouse for a bit. Jason examined a few of the plants intently, and Rylan accidentally locked everyone in the greenhouse for a good ten minutes. They liked Jerry, but they made him nervous. Jerry kept mixing up their names, and he cheerfully called Rylan Scott twice. Determined to get it right, Jerry then called him Ryan, and Rylan left in a huff, claiming he was going to see how Carole was.

He returned ten minutes later, saying Carole threatened to shoot him if he stepped foot on her property.

Andy was noticeably absent.

I drowned in the wave of guilt at him being attacked, but I clawed my way back up when Jerry dismissed us for lunch and told me Andy was doing just fine. He'd taken the day off to rest, and he'd been taken to Erudite, too. He was back and should return tomorrow.

My day didn't get any more exciting. Jason and Rylan ate lunch with me. Jason was polite, even going as far as to say he liked the vegan options, and he didn't mind the almost meat sandwich someone had served him. Rylan didn't enjoy much of it, but someone finally made him a plate of scrambled eggs, and he happily ate breakfast instead. He even drank their coffee, but an hour later, someone named Paul showed up to drop off three coffees from Dauntless.

We were sitting with Jerry when Paul strolled right down the middle of Amity, and he stopped when Jason called his name. The guy stared at me, then very slowly handed me a drink, too.

Jason informed me he'd ordered them not too long ago, and Paul was grateful for the chance to deliver them. He waited patiently to see if I liked my drink, though I wondered if he'd go back and make another if I said I didn't, so I took a sip and nodded.

It was sweet.

It tasted like chocolate milk and coffee mixed together, and I really liked it. Jason pointed out he mostly liked the aesthetic of how dark it all looked, and Rylan snapped a picture of him, casually chilling on the fence with his fancy coffee, then one of all three of us.

As the day wound down, I struggled with them realizing I had nothing else planned for the day. At some point, I wanted to wrangle Zander home and make sure he wasn't driving anyone insane. I could make us dinner, and I'd decided tonight was the night I was going to call Harrison. Despite my talk with May, my mother still hadn't returned, and I still hadn't heard anything. Johanna had waved in my general direction, throwing me a look full of sympathy, but she made no move to come by me. I kept thinking of how Four said she was involved, and I figured I was safer away from her.

Or at Jerry's.

"What sort of things would be haunted? The plants?" I try to think of what Rylan had spotted that could potentially be harboring a ghost, but I can't think of much. "The pillows?"

"Well," Rylan starts, balancing haphazardly while Jerry yells for him to be careful. "Eric didn't tell us anything about your room. Not that we asked. But anything can be haunted. Even a spoon."

"You both believe this?" I stare at them, in matching uniforms and matching messed up hair, and they nod. "Do you have haunted spoons in Dauntless?"

"Oh, all of Dauntless is haunted," Jason answers seriously. He looks at me with a very intense expression, like I should have known this. "Plenty of people meet their fate every day. The lower levels are a cluster fuck of paranormal activity. Shrieking. Screaming. Things floating. It wouldn't be farfetched to think there's a ghost roaming the hallways."

For a moment, I think he's joking.

But he's not.

"Does Eric think it's haunted?" I sip the drink again, and I have a feeling this answer is no. "Is his apartment haunted?"

"Only with the souls of the girls he's rejected," Rylan laughs so hard he nearly falls over, but he catches himself. His hand touches something on the fence, and he shakes it off with a look of disgust. "Nah, he doesn't believe in ghosts. Eric's beliefs are very black and white. Science based. You're alive or you're not. You can float or you can't. You're a zombie or not a zombie."

"None of those things are science based except for being alive," I point out, and he flashes me a blinding grin.

"Okay, true. Eric's brain is like that though, and trust me, I grew up with him, so I know Eric better than anyone. He only believes in things that can be proven. So, can you prove a ghost is here? No. Can you prove that two numbers added together equal another number? Yes. If he works out enough, can he kill someone with his bare hands? Also yes."

"He also doesn't believe in things like feelings. One time someone cried in front of him in hopes that he'd comfort them, and he just stared," Jason adds. "It's how he was brought up. If you had scientists for parents, you'd be more inclined to believe that plants grow because you water them, not because you tell them good morning. Eric likes facts. We tried to explain that sometimes people have feelings, but he doesn't care."

I think about this for a second, and I have to admit it would explain his inability to say much.

"So there you go. He doesn't believe in ghosts. But there has to be at least one that's crossed his path." Rylan insists. "Daniel also doesn't believe in ghosts. I asked him once and I got a lecture on paranormal influence in old media. Eric would never admit it, but they both share some really boring convictions."

"What is Eric doing?" I swing my feet, watching Zander catch a chicken. He looks surprised at himself, then terrified as he launches the chicken toward Jerry. "Why didn't he come by?"

"He's in a meeting with Max. They're doing damage control for the missing serums. Jeanine demanded it, but Eric pointed out they don't let us in their faction. They want minimal security, minimal cameras, and even less of our involvement. If you ask me, Eric's getting really sick of working for Jeanine." Rylan stops talking, and his eyes are wide. "Shit. I think I've said too much."

"It's okay! Christina told me," I answer quickly, and his eyes widen even more. "She told me all about him. How she had him for her initiation and he tried to kill her. How it took a long time for her to be around him."

Jason laughs so hard he chokes. "Yeah, it always makes it a little awkward when she shows up."

"To be fair, she's very dramatic," Rylan's slow snicker makes me laugh even harder. "They both claim the other got mouthy, and then someone threw someone over the railing and it's all a blur. I'm sure they've moved past it, but please feel free to share what else she said."

"She just said he's very, very closed off. That he demands a lot of respect and doesn't talk to many of the members. That he wasn't nice when she first met him and he's still not nice," I pause while Rylan nods in agreement, and he's still grinning. "She said she never sees him with anyone unless it's you guys or other leaders, and she was shocked he was interested in anyone from Amity. I guess he comes off a little too violent for most."

I pause, because they're both looking at me, and neither are disagreeing.

"Is he…"

"Cluelessly head over heels for you? If Eric believed in feelings, yes." Rylan interjects. "I told you, you have to be patient. He wouldn't know what it's like to care about someone if it slapped him in the face. This is unchartered territory for a man who gets his thrills from slamming people into walls."

"That's true. He's not good with communicating. Four was lucky you were there when you were. If you hadn't been, Eric probably would have murdered him before anyone showed up." Jason looks thoughtful, and I have the feeling they've talked about this before. "Which is cute when you consider he probably didn't want you to see him kill anyone. Yet. That'll come later."

I stare at him, and once again, Dauntless seems like a world that can't possibly exist.

But it does.

"It's all good. While he won't tell anyone, we know he really likes you. It's not like we don't think he should like you. He's just quiet about it. He keeps sending everyone here and demanding more security and better cameras and he even blew off Jeanine to come see if you were okay. He hasn't outright said any of this is because of you, but then he turns around and practically murders Four for you getting attacked. He shows affection in strange ways."

Jason finishes his thoughts with a shrug.

"He does. He might not tell you he likes you, but he'll move half the Dauntless army over here for you," Rylan watches as Jerry and Zander introduce a new chicken, and he tilts his head. "I asked him if he could ever move here, and he laughed so hard he spilled his coffee. But, since we're being honest, I think Eric would be an excellent chicken wrangler."

We all watch as Zander trips over a chicken, and his scream when he bonks his head on the chicken coop is enough to startle everyone. Furious over hurting himself, he yells at everyone: Jerry, Travis the chicken, me, Rylan and Jason, and then the ground, and he shoves himself up and glares at all of us.

"Or maybe he wouldn't last five minutes here." Rylan laughs again, hopping off the fence and going over to Zander. He picks him up without any warning, and Zander's scream turns to happy shrieking as Rylan helps him chase the chicken he tripped over, vowing to avenge Zander's pride.

"Eric is a good guy. Sometimes. I hope you know that," Jason hops off the fence, and he helps me down. "A lot of people don't. He's made some mistakes but…he's better. He's been really good these last few months because he has a reason to."

"Really?" I stare up at Jason, and a second too late, I realize he's talking about me. "I wish he was here today."

"Yeah, I know. He does, too. Trust me."

Jason and I watch Rylan and Zander finish their chicken hunt, and he misses Carole scowling at him, arms crossed and eyes trained on him, while all her chickens slowly stroll around her.

At eleven thirty, I sit on my bed, and I try to decide if it's too late to call Harrison.

I had meant to call earlier. Jason and Rylan had stayed for dinner, claiming it was part of their job, but eventually admitting they could have gone home hours ago. They stayed until Zander was asleep, until Wesley had wordlessly walked past them, up to his room, then back downstairs to see if they were still here, then upstairs again. They left once they were sure I was staying home, and they promised they'd be back soon.

By the time I took a shower and brushed my hair, I was shocked to see it was so late.

I still have no other option. I bravely click on Harrison's name, and I feel more nervous than I ever have. I press the button marked call, and the phone begins to ring.

It rings for a while.

It keeps going, an unusually long amount of time, until there is a click, and his voicemail answers. The message is curt: leave my name and number and he'll call me back if he decides the message warrants it, and then nothing. I try to remember all the things I should say; I was going to leave my name and tell him I didn't know the phone number, but Eric had it, and ask if he could please call me back and at least tell me my mother was okay.

Instead, I chicken out entirely, and I press end before I say a single word.

This time the market is crowded.

The cold weather should be keeping everyone inside, but it's not. It's brought them here in droves. I wander through the crowd, taking a few seconds to peruse all the items for sale, but nothing really catches my eye. I'd promised Jerry I'd be right back, and he was the only reason I was here. He'd announced he was going in search of a few things for his house and asked if I wanted to tag along.

The gesture was nice.

I still hadn't heard from my mom, and it was going on a week. The days stretched on endlessly, broken only by sunrises and sunsets, and the in between hours shifted from bleak –going through the motions of initiation but failing to identify all the parts of a sunflower, to okay –checking to see if Eric had sent anything, and occasionally smiling at the sharp text announcing whatever he was up to.

His updates were as sparse as my mother's. I'd seen him only a few days ago, and since then, he'd had coffee. He was in a meeting with Max. He was sitting with Lauren, a faceless name I'd heard mentioned, while he refused to take over training the initiates.

I learned from these few lines of blinking text that Four had been demoted. Eric was watching him like a hawk, sending him on whatever errand struck his fancy. Going to find Evelyn had been the first one. Today's errand - sent while I sat in the passenger seat of the truck and Jerry rambled on about the new chicken named Travis that Zander had tripped over -was walking the worst route with the lowest ranking patrol squad. His chances of death were high; the squad was made up of dedicated but low ranking soldiers, and almost none met Eric's approval. I could feel his glee through the screen, and he announced they were being sent further into the woods in hopes of finding Evelyn.

I was certain he would not find her.

At least not yet.

Evelyn is too smart.

Her trickery came when I least expected it. It was likely she'd figured out that since Colton had a tracker, Dauntless was coming for her. Four's weird and skittish behavior wouldn't help. His fight with Colton was no better than his fight with Eric, and for the second time, he paid for his betrayal with his own blood.

Even that didn't seem to do much.

He took it in stride, and was now trudging along through the woods, in hopes of proving whose side he was really on.

He would prove it, I'm sure, but Evelyn was making it even harder. The locations where she had been now showed no activity, and while he sat on a fence with me, Jason let it slip that Evelyn was able to let her army do all the dirty work. They might find Colton, or they might find a slew of factionless milling around feigning innocence, but they wouldn't find her.

"Boots! Get your boots here! Twenty points for one pair, thirty points for two!"

The noise of the market rises up as someone does his best to sell the heavy, knock off version of the boots the Dauntless soldiers wear. For half a second, I contemplate grabbing a pair. These aren't like the work boots in Amity, but more military. They are thick and sturdy, with shiny laces and heavy soles, and would look absolutely ridiculous with anything I own.

I dash the thought that I could wear them with anything, since Rylan had deemed my entire wardrobe that of something a deceased child bride would wear, and I turn the corner.

I come to a halt, nearly taking out a man from Candor with a heavy coat and a woman glaring at me, because there, two rows down and a table away, is Eric's father.

I recognize him immediately.

Though my investigation skills were limited, and so were my resources, there's a fleeting moment of triumph that I've just spotted him in real life, and I know enough to figure out it's him.

Immediately, my mind races through the facts I know: his name is Daniel, because Eric had said it a few times, though always in great disgust. His last name is Coulter, and I know he's a brain surgeon who works more than he doesn't. I'd even seen his picture, the one with Eric storming at the camera while Daniel stood beside him grinning.

From what I could put together, he seems nice enough, maybe even nicer than in the photos.

Even the woman he's with seems nice. She's the same one from the café that Eric had taken me to in Erudite, and I would bet anything she'd said something to Daniel.

I watch them intently, wondering what they were here for. The two of them are impressive, and not just to me. They're currently discussing the weather and how it was giving the woman a headache, and Daniel suggests she get some coffee. They are completely caught up in their conversation, so much that they miss the people turning to look at them. They garner a lot of attention because they don't look like anyone else here, and because of their posture.

It's easy.

Elegant.

Sort of regal as they stroll past trinkets and oversized carpets without ever looking anywhere but at each other.

The man shopping next to them takes in Daniel's structured jacket and glasses with a look of approval, and he nods at the heavy watch on Daniel's wrist. It's obvious their clothes are a much nicer quality than what's sold here, and even the woman's dress is well tailored. Her dress isn't long, but she has on a heavy coat and mittens, and she walks a step behind, carefully touching a few of the books in front of her, unbothered by the cold.

"LIZARDS! GET YOUR LIZARDS HERE!"

I whirl around, half expecting to see Zander here, trying to sell reptiles, or perhaps Rylan vying to buy one. But I don't see anyone I know. Only a wave of people shopping, grumbling that the snow fall is already heavy and thankful someone is selling hot chocolate.

"Excuse me," I head over toward the rows of books, set up in a different location, further out of the way.

I cut across a group looking at oversized rugs, and I smile politely at the woman selling furniture. This section has taken a sharp turn from novelty to higher end items, and I almost retreat back to where Jerry was inspecting a fountain with two frogs spitting water at each other.

"Do you need help, miss?"

I startle at the noise, but no one is talking to me. I keep going, passing a section of graphic romance novels that looked like the ones May would read on her porch, and a section of science fiction. I pass children's books, a section labeled historical romance, and I turn when a sign reads Reference.

"Camille, do you have this one? This is last year's addition, but it's a fascinating read on memory and perception."

Two feet away from me, Dr. Daniel Coulter browses a table of books like he's casually picking out dinner plates. Judging from his neatly parted hair, and his shiny shoes without a single scuff on them, I assume his dinnerware is just as refined as he is.

"I don't believe I do. I had one, but I lent it to Greg. Let me see if…wait! This is my copy! Greg said he lost it! It has my name written inside!"

Camille looks exasperated, and she's far prettier up close than I would have guessed. I was basing my assumption off Eric's sneer that he didn't like her, but I don't see why. She's nearly as tall as his father, and they stand closely together. But I understand his reluctance toward her when she turns to prove the book for sale is hers, and I realize Eric's father has a wedding ring on, but Camille does not.

Maybe, the king of sneaking between factions and starting this illicit, practically forbidden romance, frowned upon his father being close to another woman.

"How much do you want for this one?" Camille looks back at the book seller, and he refuses to budge on the price, despite it being her own book. "It's last year's version."

"It's highly sought after," the man responds, shoving his hands in his pockets. "What are you willing to pay? Fifty-six? Fifty-five points?"

"For my own book?" Camille frowns, and my fingers touch whatever is in front of me. I keep watching her, noticing that even under pressure she's calm and collected, and I fail to notice Eric's father is right next to me.

When I look up, I nearly knock the books off the table, because he's right there, staring at me. His stare has more than a hint of recognition to it, though he has no reason to know who I am.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's not every day I see someone interested in a book on Osteo-odonto-keratoprosthesis."

He says the words too easily, like they're second nature.

"Um…it's not…" When I glance down, the book in my hands is terrifying, with an eyeball taking up almost the whole cover. I let go immediately, and he smiles as it hits the table.

"It's a terrifying procedure. Rarely used these days. That book should be over in the horror section." He pauses, and his watch gleams at me as he points to the table. "Are you studying to become a doctor?"

"Me?"

He has to be joking.

Eric's father looks at me, my hair pulled half up and the dress that I think might have been Holly's, and his gaze is sharp. It's not sharp like Eric's, but sharp like he's putting a few things together, or he's cataloging this for later. He waits for me to answer, and I find him slightly intimidating. Not in the physical sense, though he's fit and healthy looking, but because it's clear he's intelligent enough to know what the book is about and I am not.

I've never once felt like I wasn't smart, but I suddenly feel like my life in Amity was nothing but mooing along with the cows.

"Um, no…I was actually looking for…" I glance around, hoping to see something that would be appropriate. All around me are books meant for doctors. One is a heavy tome of disorders and treatments, and the next table boasts articles and journals published by members of Erudite. One has a brain, and the other has some sort of DNA strand and a bunch of medical jargon. "Something for my brother."

"How old is he?" Daniel's eyes meet mine, and his are blue. "Is he your age? Is he interested in the human brain?"

He smiles again, kindly, and I have the urge to bolt.

At some point, I would have to tell Eric I saw his father. Announcing I found him buying books with names I couldn't pronounce as I tried to play it off like I could, probably wouldn't make me look very cool. But I can't run just yet. I've already started talking to him, and if I ever do see him again, I'll look insane.

I probably already do.

He's still observing me, eyeing my dress and my hair, but trying to look like he isn't.

"He's younger. I'm Everly, by the way," I smile up at him, and I extend my hand. From what I know about Erudite, everyone is formal and polite, and it's true.

Daniel immediately shakes my hand, and his smile is pleased as ever. "It's nice to meet you, Everly…"

"Everly Carlen." When I say the last name, his eyes widen. He glances over at Camille, still trying to get the man to sell her the book for less than twenty points. "I know this might sound weird, but I know your son. He was going to ask you about my dad."

"You know my son?" Daniel repeats, but he's already made the connection. He wrinkles his brow together, and his head tilts. "Eric?"

"I don't mean to bother you. I'm here with a friend and I saw you and I thought maybe I could ask you if he's okay…" I stop talking when he exhales, and I realize my mistake immediately.

As a well-respected doctor in Erudite, it was unlikely he wanted to answer questions from a girl in the market, especially about his work. This had to be the ultimate insult. I probably should have tried to make an appointment, or at best asked Eric if he'd take me to visit. I could only imagine the conversation they would have now, when Eric learned I'd run into his father at the market and walked right up to him to pry about my father.

"Yes," Daniel pauses to glance back at Camille, still haggling over the book, and she shakes her head at him. Her eyes widen when they find me, and she does her best to silently communicate that she knows who I am. She looks different than she did at the coffee shop, more relaxed and less stressed, but it's clear she hasn't forgotten me.

When she thinks I'm not looking at her, she points, and lowly informs him I'm the girl she saw.

Daniel looks back at me, and his expression changes to concern over my stare. "Everly, are you okay?"

I startle, because my brilliant plan cracks. I had thought I could ask him about my dad without revealing who I am, but it's obvious they both know. The woman must have called him and told Daniel she saw Eric with someone. I would go as far as to guess she'd seen him kiss me, and the two of us left before she did.

Which is why his stare is focused.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I just haven't heard anything. My mom hasn't come back and Eric said he'd…"

"Eric," Daniel says the name slowly, and his tone is odd. "Hold on a second," he whirls around quickly and gestures at the woman he's with. "Camille, just buy the book. I'll be right back. Grab me another copy of the last medical journal as well."

"Okay," Camille answers, and her stare tells me something is up. She looks at me a second too long, and I can't read her expression. "Daniel, are you sure you want-"

He shoves a card at her. I didn't even see him reach for his wallet, but he pulls out a heavy looking blue metallic card, and practically slams it into her hand.

"I'll be right back."

He returns to me, and gestures for me to walk away from the table. I follow him back toward the first row of bookshelves, and it's out of the way enough that we're still hidden away from the people shopping.

"You're Everly? You live in Amity, right?" He tries his best not to eye me up and down again, but I know he wants to. I regret not dressing up a little more, but it was cold and snowy, and I'd grabbed the first dress my fingers touched and one of my father's sweaters and ran to meet Jerry. "You're the one Eric said was attacked by the same people who took the serum. More than once."

He waits for an answer.

I look to the side of him, and when the annoyance of Landon's attack fades away, I force a smile, because it's clear this is now my legacy. Despite having gotten closer to Eric than one would ever imagine, it stung to know he'd brought me up only as attack victim number one.

"Yeah, that's me. It hasn't been the greatest few months."

His eyes widen like he's made a mistake.

"No, no please, I think you're misunderstanding me. Eric rarely tells me anything. I caught him in an off moment when he would talk, and he said a girl in Amity had been attacked multiple times. He said he was working to find who did it, and that's more than he's ever told me. Rylan was the one who told me your name. Camille mentioned she saw Eric with someone once, but she didn't know your name."

"You know Rylan?" I have to look up at Daniel, and I try to appear less like someone from Amity, and more like someone who had connections to the Dauntless faction so he'll talk to me. I give up immediately, because his expression brightens at Rylan's name, and he doesn't seem to care that I'm not a brain surgeon.

"I've known Rylan for years. He's a good guy. Hyper, with the possible inability to pay attention for very long, but a great friend to Eric. He calls every so often. He said Eric was personally overseeing your safety," Daniel pauses, and he glances down at my hands. "Do you mind me asking how old you are? Or what you do in Amity?"

Shoot.

I don't know if he's measuring me up to see where I rank in regard to intelligence, but my stomach drops when I tell him I'm eighteen. He looks surprised, but it's better than telling him I was currently sucking at our initiation and it was unlikely I'd secure a position on par with what he did.

Or at all.

Of course, there was the off chance he was hoping for a level of unparalleled brilliance when it came to getting oneself in trouble, and I was excelling in that.

"I'll be nineteen really soon," I ignore the flash of worry on his face, and I hate the thought that he might not like me. "I'm really good at baking, I can sort of cook, and I've been watching my brothers and sisters while my mom is gone. I like to read, too. I usually read to Zander at night but he's been at my older brother's house lately and um, I'm helping Jerry with his chickens. I'm just waiting for my dad to come home…" I trail off when my rambling fails to impress him, but he rocks back on his heels and nods.

"Your father. You were going to ask me about your dad. Hank Carlen," Daniel pushes his glasses up higher, and he looks around like someone could be listening. "I understand. Your mother is still at the hospital. Hank wakes up occasionally, but he's having a hard time remembering things. We think he may be suffering from a serum induced memory loss. The few times he's been coherent, he hasn't recognized your mother, and there's no reason for him not to. The trauma to his head wasn't all that severe."

I feel myself tense up.

I wrap my arms around myself, and I work very hard not to move. "Serum induced memory loss? What do you mean? Does he remember anything?"

"Dr. Coulter! I didn't expect to see you here. What on Earth are you doing?"

Before he can answer me, we're interrupted by someone saying his name, and the voice is unfortunately familiar. It's the same one that announced I was no one to Eric, then asked me where he was.

"It's so good to see you! It's been what, a few days?" Ashley flashes Eric's father a blindingly sweet smile, and she practically prances over to him. Her stare stays on me as she fights away a sneer, and it's not for my sake. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Everly. I didn't expect to see you here. Are you lost? The dog food is a few rows over. We don't have any pets in Erudite, but I know Amity takes in all kinds of strays."

I force myself not to shove her headfirst into the row of wizarding books.

"I was actually talking to…"

"Dr. Coulter has a lot of things going on. I don't think he needs to spend any time speaking with you. I'm sure you're very busy watering plants and tending to the cows and wandering around your dirt roads." Ashley smiles again, perfectly white teeth gleaming in the light, and Daniel looks annoyed.

Maybe that's because she's not entirely wrong.

If this were a competition, in any way, I'm sure Daniel would prefer Eric wind up with someone who was from Erudite.

"Ashley, if you'll excuse me…" he starts, but she shakes her head, and steps directly in front of me. Her gaze is sharp, and she waves me away dismissively.

"Bye Everly."

"It's really good to see you again," I eye her carefully, noticing her perfectly fitted jacket and pants, and my lips turn up when I think of her wobbling to Carole's house. "Um, thank you for your time. I'll let you two talk. The picture books are a few tables over, Ashley. I'm sure they have one you haven't flipped through before." I smile again, doing my best to make it look natural, and I only feel like I might cry because I had just been with Eric, and he'd certainly seemed to like me then.

But Ashley in person is worse than anything, especially knowing she lives in the same faction as Eric's father. It's not necessarily an advantage, but I'm sure Eric had some fond memories of Erudite, including her. "I'm so sorry for bothering you. It was nice to meet you, Dr. Coulter."

"Everly!"

He says my name insistently, but Ashley reaches out to grab his arm as her face turns red with rage.

"Get lost," she hisses through her teeth, then she turns and begins telling him about her father, and how he said he'd been trying to get ahold of Daniel, and he has no choice but to answer her. I pause at the end of the row for just a second, and when I head out, I crash right into Jerry.

"Hey, I got some birdseed. You okay? You look like you're gonna throw up."

"I'm alright. I was just…looking for a book. I'll have a lot of free time once I fail initiation." I remind him, and I reach for one. It has a weird bird on the cover, and glowing reviews from people who don't exist anymore. "I'll just pay for this. Give me a second."

"You won't fail. I changed your scores anyway. Your father was real tough on you. I wasn't sure if someone else had gotten into his scorebook or what. They had you failing everything. Even the one about showing up for class was marked as always absent, and I know you've been there." Jerry talks while I hand the merchant my card, and the guy swipes it without greeting me. "I fixed it all so you'll be fine. I don't think Johanna would want you to fail anyway."

"Do you want a copy of your receipt?" The guy asks, and I shake my head no. "Enjoy your futuristic dystopian fiction. Katniss is a terrible main character. The one you bought is okay. I hated the others in general."

"Oh thanks," I stare at him, wondering why he wouldn't tell me this before I bought it, but it's too late now. "Are there more than one?"

"Three. The first two are good. The third is shit. I have all of them. I'll bring the others next time around if you want."

"Sure, that would be great," I shrug, and Jerry stares. "What?"

"Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so happy and that blonde girl over there keeps looking at you. She doesn't look very happy, either."

I don't turn around, because I don't want to give Ashley an ounce of satisfaction. I could throw it in her face that Eric just spent the night, and he'd only left because he had to. But there was a chance he'd left and gone to her, even though I believed him when he said he didn't care for her.

"She doesn't like me. She's…Eric's ex-girlfriend or something. I sent her to Carole's house when she was in Amity," I answer.

Jerry bursts out laughing. "And?"

"Who knows? Carole didn't kill her, so I might have to hire a hitman."

"Eh, talk to Allen. He'll take care of her for almost nothing." Jerry rolls his eyes, and he points to the entryway. "You want to head back? Or keep looking? There's a guy who claims the doll he has for sale tried to kill him. His name's Ed. Nice guy, but I don't want a possessed doll floating around my house. He also has a fountain I was interested in."

"Let me see the doll," I perk up, and I wonder if maybe this is the perfect gift for Rylan. It was unlikely I was attending his anniversary party for…whatever he was celebrating, but I could at least send a gift.

This might be just the one I'm looking for.

It'll also be a good distraction from Daniel and Ashley.

"You lead the way."

It's not perfect.

The doll is horrifying.

"You uh, in the market for something like this?"

"God no." I shake my head at Ed, and there's no way I can buy this thing. I wouldn't even take it for free for fear it might come alive and kill us on the drive home. "I'm looking for something for a friend's anniversary party, but I don't think this is it."

"I see." Ed is appropriately bummed, probably hoping I'd take his demon doll and rid him of its curse. Too bad for him, giving Rylan a haunted doll might just be the end of Dauntless.

"Thank you for letting me see…it." I step away, crashing into someone, and I apologize to Jerry without looking. "Sorry, Jerry. Are you ready to go?"

"I was hoping I'd find you!"

I look back in surprise to see Not Jerry standing behind me, and he gently catches my arms. He lets go immediately, smiling, then looking at the doll with all the skepticism in the world. "I wanted to finish talking to you. I'm sorry about the…interruption."

"Ashley?" I look up at Daniel, then around to make sure she's not here. "It's alright. She's just one big interruption in my life these days."

I sound a little annoyed, and I am. Her appearance was never good, and if anything, it would spur her on to call Eric. I'm sure she'd love to tell him she saw me with his dad, making an absolute idiot of myself.

"Can we talk for a minute? I think we got off on the wrong foot and we didn't get a chance to clear things up," Daniel speaks quietly, and he gestures over to where someone is selling cookies. "I'm not…I don't mind that you're from Amity. Actually, it makes sense that Eric would like someone who isn't so violent. I felt awful when you walked away. Camille and I have been trying to unravel this mystery for weeks now."

His words confirm that he does know who I am.

They also confirm he's fine with this.

"She saw us in Erudite. Eric took me there one night," I admit.

Daniel looks downright delighted at this news.

"That's what she said. It's rare Eric comes to Erudite just to hang out. He must have had some reason for bringing you," Daniel looks thoughtful. "Did you like the coffee?"

"I did," I smile at the memory of being there. "He said he had an errand to run but we had a really strange conversation beforehand and I think…I think he felt weird and was trying to make up for it. He said I was too young and he doesn't want to have children. I can only assume his friends were giving him a hard time."

"Oh." His surprise is clear as day, but not in a bad way. "Did he tell you this?"

"No, I overheard it. It was really awkward. I understand that I'm younger than he is, so I just assumed that's why he'd pick Ashley. I've met her a few times and it's never gone well. Today is just another example," I admit, and he gestures for me to follow him.

I do.

We join the line of people waiting before a cart. I hope Jerry stays distracted by looking at a second water fountain, this one with three frogs, long enough that I can talk to Daniel.

"And I'm so sorry. It was wrong of me to assume you'd tell me anything. I just wanted to know if my dad is okay. My mom doesn't have a phone, and no one is telling me what's going on. Maybe it's a good thing she showed up."

"Hardly. You can ask me anything, and I'll tell you what I can. I'm not working today, so I haven't seen your dad, but my assistant is there. I saw Hank yesterday and he wasn't awake. When he is awake, he has moments of acute coherence, but he doesn't recognize your mother. She's been by his side for most of it, and…. she was hesitant to let us do anything at first, but then she realized this isn't someone who hit their head. Someone wanted to make him forget everything and they did. We're trying to reverse it, but after a few recent incidents with the labs, they aren't willing to hand over much of their serum for testing. Even if I order it. The good news is, I think it's temporary."

He pauses and smiles as the guy in front of us steps away and says we can order. I look up in confusion, because I've been too busy listening to Daniel to pick out what kind of cookie I want. I'm a little in shock at the memory loss, and my stomach knots up at the thought that he might never remember any of us.

It had to be the one that went missing, which didn't bode well for me.

"We'll have three cookies. I have to get one for Camille or she'll be mad," Daniel fumbles in his jacket for his card, and he hands it over before I can pay. "No, please, I want to buy this. What I meant earlier was, Eric rarely mentions his work but he mentioned your faction over and over, and he gave more information on it than ever. Since then, I've asked Eric about you a few times. I asked why he was so interested in Amity, a faction that he loathes, and he wouldn't tell me. He said it was his job to make sure people were safe. But Eric doesn't care about anyone's safety. Not really."

I stare up at Daniel as he unknowingly confesses just as much as Eric. He stares back at me, and his smile is genuine.

"He's a little taken with you. He's very private, but he brought up Amity all on his own and he never brings up Amity."

"Can I ask you something else?" I wait for his nod, and I figure it's now or never. Ironically, it's not about my father. Daniel had given me a few answers –ones I didn't want to hear –but I have plenty of other things to ask him about. "Is Ashley his girlfriend?" I take the cookie from the guy, and it's warm and gooey. "I don't know what you would call whatever is going on, but I don't want to be cared about by someone who has a girlfriend."

I try to think of the most diplomatic way to explain that I was sleeping with his son, and if it turned out Eric was still with Ashley, then I was a complete moron and needed to put a halt to that.

His father must be assuming things are a little more serious because he looks taken back. "Is he…is he dating Ashley? Are you asking if they're in a relationship?"

"He told me he's not but…I'm in another faction without the ability to leave. I only know what he tells me," I try to explain my jumble of thoughts, and I hope his father understands. "Eric has helped me a lot. He showed me how to punch someone and he was one of the few people who believed me about Landon."

"Landon," Daniel repeats, taking his card back from the vendor. He then accepts the two remaining cookies, but he doesn't move. "I've heard that name, too. As far as I know, Eric only sees Ashely if it's required for work. She just hinted she can't get ahold of him and asked if I could let him know she's tried. He's not there all that often, at least not to see me. I wouldn't worry about her."

The relief is overwhelming. Ashley seemed desperate to get to Eric, but I didn't want that to be my wishful thinking and not reality.

"Are you and Eric close?" I figure maybe I can get a little more information out of Daniel, but he shakes his head after a second.

His expression tenses, and he and Eric both make the same face when they don't want to answer a question.

"Not…particularly. His mother and I both work a lot and once he picked Dauntless, he didn't come back for a long time. Every so often I catch him in a free moment, so I try to call when I can."

There's a hint of hidden remorse in his tone, but it's fleeting.

"He must be going to see you, though. He said he's been working more than normal. Jeanine stopped by to ask Blythe where he's been and…" he hesitates, and his eyes lock on mine. "It doesn't matter. I just wanted to come talk for a minute. I'm very sorry about Ashley interrupting. It was rather rude of her, but I do work with her father. His floor is below mine." Daniel finishes, and he waits for me to say something, but I can't think of a single nice word to contribute.

He can tell.

He smiles and gestures at the bag in my hands. "Did you buy a good book?"

"Not according to the guy who sold it to me," I half laugh, half shrug, and I hope the book is at least entertaining. "Thanks for coming back and talking to me. I feel a little better now, but um, I hope that I can see you again sometime. Maybe…maybe if Eric ever takes me to Erudite again."

Daniel's eyes light up.

"I would love that! There's a nice restaurant we could go to. I'm sure my…" Daniel pauses, and he gently waves someone around us. "…wife would love to meet you."

"Oh, sure. That would be really nice." I answer immediately, but there's something about the way he hesitated when he said the word wife that makes me think my mother isn't the only one with secrets. Or that Eric's reasoning for not liking Camille wasn't because she answered his phone. "I can ask Eric. I don't really have a way out of Amity, but maybe he can bring me to see my dad and then we could go eat dinner."

You would think I'd offered him the cure for the memory loss serum.

Daniel's smile is so wide it must hurt, and he nods enthusiastically. "Anytime. I can clear my schedule. And I will have Eric call you with any news that I have. I'm thinking we'll have the answer for you in a few days. Greg is determined to try a few things, and if not, I'll push for the serums to be brought to me and I'll personally see what I can do."

"Thank you," I hope I sound gracious, because he's given me a tiny bit of hope. "I really appreciate that. I hope I see you soon."

Daniel doesn't nod right away. He looks at me, his stare memorizing my face, and his smile doesn't budge, not even when Jerry loudly returns to inform me he's purchased two fountains and he needs my help carrying one, but maybe not because it's really heavy and he doesn't want the frog heads to break off.

He finally agrees, and it's like his whole day has been made.

"Me too."

"Is his dad hot?"

Sophia sits on the counter eating a spoonful of ice cream. Courtney is beside her, and both are waiting patiently for my answer as though this were the sole reason they came over.

"Do they look alike? Eric could be handsome but he's so stuck up looking," Sophia takes another bite, and she glances at Courtney out of the corner of her eye. "He's hot but kinda like, psycho hot. Like he might bash your head into the wall on purpose."

"He's not a pyscho," I roll my eyes, but I know she's joking. "There was no head bashing, either. Well, at least not mine. But, to answer your question, his dad is really nice. I thought he might not like me since he holds a really high job there, but he bought me a cookie and seemed excited at the thought that we could maybe go to dinner."

"Or…hear me out, maybe he's just excited someone isn't running screaming from his son," Courtney offers, but she's trying not to laugh. "I mean, Eric is hot, but I'd still be a little afraid.

"You would not. Liar! And Everly don't avoid the subject! I asked if his dad was hot. We know you think Eric is hot," Sophia laughs, and the normalcy of them being here is just what I needed.

They'd shown up right after dinner, and I have to admit, I was glad to see them. We had a ton to catch up on, and I hadn't seen either one since the three of us went to Dauntless.

Once they'd gotten back from the dinner, Sophia had gotten sick, and Courtney had been working in the kitchens. Tonight they both showed up, desperate to make sure I was alive and even more desperate to hear what happened once I left with Eric.

But first, we caught up.

While they helped me wash the dishes, Courtney lamented how boring her job is, but admitted at least she got to take plenty of breaks and some of the cooks were hot. But not hot enough to make the job painless. The kitchen staff was a lead by a woman named Kelly, and while almost unbearably nice, she kept them on a strict schedule.

They were required to cook everything; Courtney explained she had to make a kitchen budget, she had to know what crops and vegetables were in season, and worst of all, at least according to her, she had to be able to make a variety of options meant to stretch through the faction. We never knew how many people would show up, but she had to make sure there was enough food for all, and the cooking spanned all day, including setting up boxes for those in need with items which couldn't be kept any longer.

I didn't have much to explain initiation wise, but all they really wanted to know about was Eric. Before I could explain what had happened in Dauntless, it somehow came up that I'd run into his father, and how hot he is or isn't.

Which, given how kind and genuinely nice he was to me, made me think of him like I would my own father.

"I can't answer that. But I do hope I can see him again soon. He's helping my dad," I stop, and they both freeze with the non-haunted spoons halfway to their mouths. "What? Do you know something I don't?"

"Johanna doesn't think your dad's coming back," Courtney answers slowly, and her eyes are as wide as saucers. "I went to drop off her lunch and she was talking to someone over the computer. She tried to make it sound like it was because he couldn't remember a few things, but then she told whoever she was talking to that he's not doing well at all. Something is making him sick."

"Daniel didn't say that!" I nearly drop the plate I'm putting away. "He said he's going to try and figure out what's wrong. Do you know who Johanna was talking to?"

"No clue," Courtney shakes her head. "She hung up as soon as I got close by. I want to say I thought it was someone from Erudite, but I don't know who she'd be talking to. But…enough gloom and doom, what the heck did you do in Dauntless? You never came back from the bathroom, and some guy came over and said they were questioning you and they'd bring you back. Jerry nearly lost his mind because he was thinking they wanted to arrest him for being related to Landon."

"I um…" I pause, and I linger by the kitchen cabinet. I put another plate away, and they both shriek for me to tell them, but my thoughts bounce from my father not getting better, to Eric taking my dress off, then to Johanna talking to someone about my father.

I shake my head, attempting to rid my thoughts of anything but Eric. "I spent the night with him. I went upstairs so he could show me something and I wound up staying."

"Oh, he showed you something, did he?" Sophia gasps. "Oh my gosh, is he…is he…"

"Is he what?" I try not to laugh, because they're both gaping at me. "Tall? Yes, he is."

"That is not what I wanted to know!" Sophia half yells, half laughs. "I wanted to know if he's good in bed. He's intense just standing there, so I would imagine he's intense once his clothes come off."

'Did you guys get totally undressed? Or did he want you to leave the dress on?" Courtney muses, and next to her, Sophia's cheeks turn pink at the very idea. "What? He seems like the kind of guy who might not even take his pants off."

"Everything came off. I left the dress there," I laugh at the both of them, then I close the cabinet. "He came over here, too. He actually spent the night."

"No way." Sophia nearly falls off the counter. "You're telling me that Eric stayed here? With you?! In this house, while no one else was here? You better tell me he at least took his pants off here."

"He took everything off, I promise." I lean against the sink, and the kitchen falls quiet. No one is here. My brothers and sisters have come in and out. Holly and Paisley came to eat dinner, and I couldn't bring myself to inform them our father possibly couldn't remember them. Forrest brought Zander and Leif over to grab some clothes, and Wesley was the only one who stayed. He left a few minutes ago, grumbling that Sophia and Courtney were too loud.

"He said he hung the dress up in his closet," I confess, and for some reason, this is far more telling than anything else he'd said or done.

Eric could call me a million times, check in to see how I was without ever asking how I actually was, and we could sleep together every night from here on out.

But his actions were louder than anything he said.

The slow, careful touches. Him showing up when he had no real reason to. Him grasping my hair, his fingers flying over my skin to make sure Landon's marks weren't permanent. Him announcing he'd not only had the dress washed and dried, but had hung it up in his closet, amongst his clothes, and it had to be a pretty stark reminder of our night together.

The phone, pressed into my hand so we had a way to talk.

The times we did talk, when his silence told me more than his words, and the small noises of his apartment told me I was part of his bedtime routine. I often fell asleep after he said goodnight, and I imagined he'd done the same.

Which meant that while the sex had been good, better than good and better than anything I'd imagined, it was only a small glimmer of how he really felt.

"You lucky jerk!" Sophia stares at me, and her laughter has died down. Her expression changes to lovestruck, drunk off the very idea of such romance. "Is he still coming back for you?"

"Soon." I nod, and my stare finds the calendar pinned to the side of the refrigerator. I hadn't paid too much attention to the date when he'd first told me he'd be back in two weeks, but now, it stands out like someone has circled it.

They might as well have.

There, a single week away from today, is the day Eric promised to return for me.

The next day is more of the same.

I go to class, dragging Zander along with me, and I'm relieved to see Andy back. I wave hello when he looks my way, but my stomach sinks when he grimaces, then averts his stare altogether.

I don't blame him.

Since learning he was attacked, I felt a wave of guilt over not doing more about Landon. I was definitely connected to the man who'd attacked him, and worst of all, I'd been open about Landon being violent. Andy had to feel like there was some disconnect going on. Surely, Landon should have been dealt with before he had the chance to attack, or maybe Andy thought I had something to do with it.

Either way, his frown stings. I sink against a row of blossoming flowers, clutching my notebook to my chest and trying to smile. Jerry notices right away. He asks for someone to take Zander to Mable, then practically leaps over a row of vegetables to stop Andy from getting very far. I try to focus on writing down the parts of a violet, and in the vague distance, I distinctly hear Jerry tell Andy to knock it off.

Jerry says other things; he informs him the attack had nothing to do with me, nothing to do with my father, and if Andy can't be polite toward me, then he's going to have to leave. It's a nice gesture, one I'm not sure I entirely deserve, but I know Jerry is pissed that Andy won't go near me.

I can't bear to look up, for I know Andy is probably annoyed or rightfully angry about being attacked, but our faction has zero tolerance for this sort of thing. The attack wasn't my fault, nor should I be treated like it was, but I understood.

Which makes it hard when Andy slides into the space next to me and lowly tells me hello.

"Are you okay?" I have to crane my head up to look at him, too tall, too gangly, and he nods. His hair is messier looking now, less perfect than it was, but still far neater than everyone else's here. "I'm really sorry he attacked you."

"I'm…alright. I feel really stupid that I didn't hear him coming, and I feel even dumber that I was mad at you." Andy looks everywhere but at me, though eventually his stare finds mine. "He knocked me into the doorway over and over. I've never had anyone come at me like that. I…was thinking how he attacked you and you're half my size."

"I'm so sorry, Andy. I tried to tell everyone about him," I hate that he's staring like he feels sorry for me, and even worse that he was feeling bad for me.

I'd done my best to fight off Landon, and I didn't want anyone to think I still wouldn't.

"Does this happen often here?"

"No! Hardly ever. I'm just… I thought this had something to do with me at first," I confess, and he blinks. "Not your attack, though maybe it could. I just meant Landon's shitty attitude in general. He's been acting weird for a while now, and I wonder if all this is happening because I didn't want to marry him."

"I don't think it has anything to do with you. He was rabid. Like a wild animal. He really wanted your father, and he wasn't expecting me to be there," Andy answers, heavy with defeat. "I tried to get between them at one point, but it was like he was possessed."

"I think he's taking something or…he's straight up lost his mind. I can't tell anymore." I sneak a peek at Andy's face, and to my relief, it's not as bad as I was imagining. A few scrapes, a burn on his cheek from wherever his head had hit, and a few bruises. It's not at all good, but it's not life threatening.

"I'm sorry no one believed you," Andy offers, and this time, his smile is more genuine. "Uh, your hair is getting wet. It's stuck in the plants."

"Oh shit!" I hadn't realized I'd backed up into a row currently being irrigated. He's right; the ends of my hair have caught on the leaves of one intense looking plant, and I yank them away with a scowl. "I guess I should start putting it up."

Andy laughs, and I can tell it's more of a relieved laugh, releasing some of the built-up anxiety over getting hurt. He snickers as I examine the ends with pure annoyance and promises it looks fine. I smile back, because this is hardly the same as getting punched in the face or having one's head smacked into the office door, but it's something.

Andy sticks by me for the rest of the day, walking me home once we're done with initiation.

I still feel guilty for him being attacked, but at least he's back, and he waits to make sure I get home without anyone trying to kill me.

I wave goodbye, watching him retreat back down the pathway, and I have the brilliant idea to see if he and Courtney would hit it off.

This time, Eric's text is hard to decipher.

It asks how I am, and if I'm alright, and then there's a jumble of words hinting I should skip initiation and stay home. I type back that I'm fine, everything is quiet, and that I can't not go or I'll fail.

His response is curt, but honest: _It would be easier if you did._

"You look nice."

Four glares at me with all the hatred in the world.

His hair hasn't been cut recently, and his green shirt is a size too big, but it gives him the appearance of being from here. If you looked quick, it was unlikely you'd think he didn't belong. His boots are dirty, his pants are a dark brown, and his expression of forced contentment mirrors my own.

I try not to laugh as he steps in a slick spot of mud and snow and his swear is quick.

"Eric said not to draw attention to myself. I'm supposed to be looking for a contact I have, and both Eric and Max suggested this would be less conspicuous. Which would be fine, except this is the ninth assignment from Eric. I've been working for days straight."

I find myself grinning at his miserable scowl.

I'd run into him while walking down to our general store. Holly and Paisley and Leif and Wesley had been returning home in small increments. I suppose staying with May was more fun, mostly because she was tougher than our mother but also didn't care if they stayed up late. They felt safer with her than me, and I wasn't entirely insulted.

I seemed to attract these small disasters, and the less chance they were involved, the better.

Today, our initiation was a half day. Jerry looked overwhelmed as he collected the packets we'd been working on, and he dismissed us to do some at home research. I chose to go shopping instead, figuring I might find something new at the store, I could purchase some groceries for my breakfast, and it would kill a few hours of sitting there debating texting Eric.

This morning's message was fun: Everly, if you see Four doing anything stupid, let me know.

I had started to grow used to the ones he sent, though his responses were often confusing. Sometimes he'd reply right away, and we'd go back and forth for a few minutes. Sometimes he didn't respond. Sometimes he'd respond hours later, and the texts were short. He seemed busy, and I could feel the stress through what he sent.

Sometimes, they were lighter.

Every so often, he'd send me something from a meeting, and I could tell he wasn't paying attention. I liked these the best, because they told me he was thinking of me, and not his work.

Today's message about Four made me laugh, especially when I saw him walking along, doing his best to appear incognito.

"You should dress like that all the time," I try not to laugh when he sighs, and in this moment, he reminds me of Eric.

Exasperated as can be.

"You know, I'm glad you and Eric are enjoying yourselves. It's truly humbling to watch as he works to find a way to get me out of Dauntless and a way to get you in. The man who keeps insisting what I'm doing breaks all the rules is breaking several hundred in an attempt to bring a girl from another faction to live with him."

"I think it sounds good," I shrug, and he throws me a withering stare. "What? I think it's pretty obvious I'm sucking here. Maybe I should have picked Dauntless. If I had, I would have been in your class. Maybe you'd still be teaching it."

If looks could kill, I'd be dead. He glares out of the corner of his eye, and I can see the agony that my words could possibly be true.

"Or Eric would have waltzed in and decided only he could train you and he would have taken you out of the class." Four sounds petulant, and he side steps a slick area covered with a heavy layer of slush.

"You really think so?" I pull my sweater tighter, and he shakes his head in disbelief that I'm not afraid of this scenario.

"I hope you're realizing what you're getting into. Eric can do almost whatever he wants. His only hold up is trying to figure out what to do with your status. You can't transfer factions after choosing, so he's limited to having you declared dead or just flat out ignoring the rules and just taking you home with him," Four mutters, and I stare curiously. "Before you ask how I know this, I have a few friends who work in administration. Apparently, he's been asking for all kinds of forms. I hope you enjoy being the future Mrs. Coulter. From what I've heard, it's a real honor."

He says the last part darkly, but I can't say I would mind any of the options.

"Is he a good trainer?"

"He is if you like being threatened with your own life," Four mutters. "He doesn't train anyone. He oversaw a few classes when he didn't like the curriculum. It's been changed, and he seems complacent with it. For now. He's too busy wooing a girl from Amity who should be running in the opposite direction."

"He's hardly wooing me," I point out brightly. "He can barely say my name."

"Sounds like an amazing time," Four rolls his eyes, and he shoves his hands in his pockets. "You should run. Just…don't ever call him back. He'll find Evelyn and that'll be it. This will all be over. I'm warning you now."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I start to veer to the right, where the general store sits, and he seems content to walk along with me. "Or a wife?"

"What makes you think you can ask me that?" His gaze whips over to me, razor sharp, and I watch him visibly retreat into his own head. He looks like he did the very first time I met him, and I have the urge to call him Tobias again.

"I just…thought you were really approachable," I smile, and he doesn't like my joke. "I was just wondering. I met Rylan's girlfriend Christina. She seemed really fun. I'm trying to remember everyone and figure out who they are in Dauntless."

"You met Christina?" Four is immediately uneasy. "Why?"

"I met her at the dinner. She was sitting with Rylan and Jeremy and-"

"Tris?" Four says her name quickly, and his eyes narrow. "She was there with Jeremy?"

"I don't know who Tris is. I only met Christina but I really liked her. She told me all kinds of stuff about Eric. She said he was her trainer." I pause at the door of the store, and Four stops in his tracks.

He raises an eyebrow at me and he struggles not to laugh. "He was. He was brutal to her. Her and Tris."

"Do you like Tris? You seem to like saying her name." I notice he blanches, and once more, he looks defeated.

He shakes his head no, and he reaches to open the door for me.

"I don't know her anymore."

This time, he is quiet right off the bat.

Eric calls right as I pull the brand new nightgown over my head, and his voice is rough. He grunts my name, then falls silent, and I struggle with the straps on the nightgown until they are where I want them. The quiet is heavy, and it's only broken up by him asking how my day was.

For once, it had been fairly pleasant. Four had walked with me to the general store. I'd thought we'd part ways once we got there, because he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. But he followed me inside, disappearing to examine a row with some weird trinkets someone had made, and I didn't see him again until I went to check out.

The girl working wasn't overly familiar. She rang up my nightgown, the new pajamas for Zander I grabbed, and the few fresh vegetables and fruits that I could have taken from the greenhouse. I handed her my card, and she swiped it cheerfully, then moved on to telling Four he was more than welcome to take a cupcake if he wanted one. She smiled at him, and he missed it completely in favor of staring at the wall.

I was starting to think he was the most awkward human being I'd ever met.

"How's Four?" I climb into bed, and I lie back against all the pillows, and I smile when Eric's sigh of exasperation is louder than normal.

"Seriously, Amity? Out of all the things you could ask me, you want to know how Four is?"

I struggle not to laugh at his dry answer. Talking to Eric over the phone wasn't something I ever imagined I would be doing, but since we were separated by our factions, it had become something I looked forward to. Sure, I might be next on Evelyn's list of people she'd like to kill, or worse, erase my memory, but everything felt better when I talked to him.

I could easily conjure up his bedroom, the dark pillows he'd be slumped against and the dark sheets he'd kick out of his way, and I felt like I was there.

It would be better if I could touch him, but for now, this is the next best thing.

"I saw Four today. He said you're having him work at all hours of the night," I pause while I listen for someone walking down the hallway, but it's just my imagination. I had thought I spotted Landon on my walk back home, but I knew I was being paranoid. When the man turned around, he wasn't Landon, but another farmer walking some sheep. "He looks tired."

"Well, he could look dead," Eric offers humorlessly. "Don't feel bad for him. He made his choices. He regrets them, I won't deny that, but he also had every opportunity in the world not to help Evelyn and he chose otherwise."

"Do you think he's sorry? Really sorry?" I think of Four's glum look while we walked to the store, and I had the feeling his life had been one long string of missteps. "Do you think he'll stay in Dauntless?"

Eric is quiet, hissing something under his breath that I can't make out. "If I have my way, no. If Max thinks he might be able to redeem himself, he might get stuck in some low level job where no one ever sees him. But unless he plans on killing Evelyn before I can get to her, then nothing he can do will change my mind."

"Wouldn't it be weird if the two of you ended up being friends one day?" I smile at my ceiling, and I wait for him to lose it.

I found that I really liked evoking these reactions out of Eric. It was like no one ever said anything that caught him off guard, so when I did, his reactions were painfully human. This Eric would bark a swear word, or hiss my name, or scowl and act like I was asking he adopt Four. He wasn't always so stoic and closed off, especially when I asked him something no one else would dare.

"Goodbye, Amity. This has been fun, but don't bother calling back."

"Does he live by you?" I laugh, noticing he sounds incredibly unamused. "Is he your next-door neighbor?"

"I said goodbye."

"Wait, no! Don't hang up!" I sit up slightly, and I can hear him slam his head onto the pillow. His response is muffled, and I lose the fight against cracking up. "I was just trying to make you laugh."

"Oh, sure. I'm laughing. You should see me. You know not everyone has to be friends, right? This isn't Amity." Eric's voice is strained, but he doesn't hang up. "In fact, I will never, ever be friends with him. There's no reason to. He'll help with this mission and that's it. He'll either be thanked for his help and shown the door, or I'll personally make sure I never see him again."

"You sound tired," I pull my knees up to stare at the nightgown I'd bought. "Are you okay?"

"I am tired," Eric admits. He sounds more exhausted than I've ever heard him, and it's surprising. I picture him as invincible, like not even needing sleep can get to him. "Every time I get close to wrapping things up in Erudite, something else comes up. Four is the least of my concerns, yet everyone keeps bringing him up to me."

"You should go to bed," I suggest, and I smirk at the time. "It's getting late. It's almost eight thirty."

"Who knew you were so funny?" Eric retorts, and I hear him turn over. "I got home an hour ago. I've just been lying here. I haven't even taken my jacket off yet. Rylan and Jason were overseeing the faction today, and I came back to their reports and Max wanting to know how Erudite is. I talked to him the whole drive home and it still wasn't enough. He's calling right now."

"Don't answer it." I silently hope he won't, because if he does, it means it's likely he won't call back.

"I'm not going to," Eric's response is quick, and I know he's really tried. "He can wait until tomorrow to hear my thoughts on Kang's latest email."

"Are you really still wearing your uniform?" I've decided that while I really like him in his uniform, I like him better out of it. "You should take it off."

I'm met with silence.

Total silence, until Eric answers incredulously.

"You want me to take my uniform off?"

"Unless you're going to sleep in it," I wonder if now is the time to tell him I'd seen his father, but I forget about it when I hear him sit up, and there's a shuffling sound as he takes his jacket off. "You should take your shirt off, too. I know you don't sleep in that."

"Uh huh." Eric's voice changes, and he sucks in a slow inhale. "Anything else you want me to take off?"

"Did you really take your shirt off?" I examine the edge of the nightgown, and I remember the girl's smile when she rang me up. The nightgown isn't anything crazy, but a little nicer and more luxurious than the ones I had at home. I hadn't paid attention to the amount of points, because in that moment, the purchase felt good.

Normal.

A little exciting, since it wasn't something I'd normally buy.

"Yes." His voice lowers. It has a hint of stress to it, and I wonder if he was really over working in Erudite.

"I bought a new nightgown. Four walked to the store with me and we went-"

"Please don't talk about Four right now," Eric grunts, and I hear him kick the sheets out of his way. "What are you doing? Are you going to bed?"

"I'm in bed," I answer cheerfully, and I hold the phone up when it vibrates. There's a number flashing across the screen that I don't recognize, and I immediately hit the red decline button. The screen slides elsewhere to reveal me, lying in bed. It's not a terrible picture, and the nightgown does look pretty, but I try to swipe it away. I don't succeed. The screen clicks, then returns to my call with Eric. "I was just about to-"

"Did you just send me a picture of yourself?" Eric interrupts me, and he sounds like he's working very hard to say the words. "What are you doing?"

"I'm lying in bed. I thought you were, too." I try to figure out what he's looking at, and I realize I can swipe up without hanging up on him. "I don't know how to send you a picture. Did you take your pants off?'

"Everly…"

His voice is funny. It sounds like he's really struggling here, and a second later, the phone vibrates again. I ignore it, because Eric exhales heavily.

"You don't sleep in pants. But you could. Your apartment is freezing." I reminisce about the one night I spent in his bed, and how warm he was. I'd woken up to him bringing me coffee, and there's a wave of homesickness for a home that isn't mine.

It's so strong I nearly drop the phone.

Eric's apartment is the furthest thing from a home.

It is cold. Sterile. Devoid of any color except for black and sparks of silver. There is nothing to suggest he did anything more than exist there. Nothing personal, nothing that gave me any hint to his personality other than controlled, and certainly nothing warm or soft.

But it had him.

For those few hours, I existed with him. He wasn't my superior, my trainer, or an officer barking questions about the factionless. He was strong, attentive, and safe.

It wasn't a word I would normally associate with the leader of Dauntless, yet it fit. He'd promised not to hurt me, over and over, until I was convinced of it. Just like now, when I hear him mumble my name, and I can almost picture him lying on his bed, in nothing but the black boxers I'd seen him wear.

I can picture it so well, that when he presses connect on the video feature, I jump when I'm rewarded with his face, his bare chest, and the sight is enough to make me forget about Four's forlorn stare when I asked about his love life.

"Hi."

"Hi."

I say it first, and he answers in the same tone. He stares at me with eyes that are dark, half hooded as they roam over the screen, and they settle back on my face. His lips part and I ache to be able to press mine against his.

"Are you sure you're tired?" I ask, peering up at the phone and smiling. His eyes flick downward every so often, and while not ideal, it's almost easier to look at him like this. He's safe behind his screen, and I'm safe behind mine, but I'm not at all safe when he smiles.

It's dark and slick, and definitely not sleepy.

"Not anymore."

Eventually, my eyes start to close.

Once Eric decided he liked the video feature, he didn't have any qualms using it. I got to see him lying back against black sheets, shirtless, smirking at me. To my dismay, he didn't take anything else off that I could see, but he snickered at the thought.

"You should go to bed." Eric announces, his voice rich and warm. I blink my eyes open to him watching with an amused expression on his face. "It's getting late. You should probably take off your nightgown, too."

I laugh right back at him.

While the idea is appealing, it's way later than I planned on staying up. The tiny numbers in the upper corner of the screen read 1:30 am. Our phone call hadn't stretched on the entire time; at one point, Max called so many times Eric had to answer him. He called me back, his grey eyes flashing with annoyance and his lips pressed together, and he snarled that now Four was calling. I couldn't help the giggle when he looked furious, and it was his own fault.

Eric had assigned Four to work in so many areas and on so many projects that his report took him an entire hour to recap.

Eric called back looking murderous, and his expression only softened when I smiled.

I would stay on the phone with him all night, but unfortunately, I had initiation, and Eric had a meeting. Right as I have the brilliant idea to tell him I saw his father, I realize I'm about to fall asleep.

"I'll call you tomorrow night?" I yawn, watching his face while I speak, and I memorize every tiny movement. He presses his lips together, and the piercing in his eyebrow moves as his eyes narrow, but his face changes to a pleased expression once he agrees.

"Goodnight, Amity. Don't forget, stay home tomorrow. Don't go anywhere."

I shake my head, and the pull of sleep is so strong that I can barely inform him I can't.

Tomorrow, I have one of the harder lessons of our initiation.

A meeting with Johanna.

Rylan calls while I walk to Johanna's office.

I wave to May, sitting on her porch reading a book while Zander balances on the porch railing, and she waves back. Zander waves, too, then returns to asking how she gets the ducks to line up. He tries to command them into rows, but much to his chagrin, they ignore him.

I answer the phone carefully, having shoved it into my father's sweater pocket, and his voice is loud in my ear.

"Don't tell Eric I'm calling you. I just want to make sure I have your RSVP for my anniversary party. I gave him an invitation to give you, but I just saw it on his office desk and I knew he didn't ask you. It's a very exclusive party and I need to give Quinten a headcount."

"What anniversary are you celebrating?" I walk carefully, stepping over the snowy parts of the pathway. "Eric didn't invite me, but I'm not sure when your party is. Or what it's for."

"It's in two weeks. I told him you'd already be here, so it would be fine. He then gave me a lecture on factional rules and regulations, and sent me to go fetch him an accounting form." Rylan rambles on, and I hear him yell for someone to give him his stapler back. He hisses the name Tori, and they argue back and forth for a minute, until Rylan lets out a huff of annoyance. "I get zero respect around here. She claims she needs the stapler more than I do. It's not fair.

"Did someone take yours?"

I try to figure out how Dauntless worked. I wondered if everyone had an office, or if Rylan just used the entire faction as his office.

"Well, a few days ago, I was using it to staple all four corners of Eric's paperwork together because he was being rude, and Harrison told me to knock it off. He took it from me yesterday, but now I really need it for these forms and no one will let me borrow theirs. Harrison sent out a memo saying if I can't respect the supplies then I can't use them."

"I'm sorry," I struggle not to laugh, and I also struggle to walk. I slip slightly where the pathway slopes, and I nearly stumble when I look up at the person standing there watching me.

He blinks back at me, and his lips turn up ever so slightly.

I fumble with the phone, until I can think of what to say.

"I have to call you back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Bamberlee for editing!


	19. Harrison's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Bamberlee for editing!

Behind him, the sky is grey and stormy, violent as the storm rolls in.

He is not.

His smile is warm, the same as it was in the picture of us, and his eyes are green. His uniform might be dark, the collar popped up, the sleeves stiff and the blue strip on his arm vibrant, but he doesn't look like he's from Dauntless.

He could be from anywhere once you took away the uniform.

"Wait! Everly no! I need to know! I have to reserve a table and-"

I hang up without meaning to, because I've stopped paying attention to Rylan. I shove the phone in my pocket, and I head right toward him.

Harrison watches me before he steps forward, and I feel the same way I did when he crouched down to play with Zander. The same connection is there, strong and unwavering, and it's impossible to think about anything but the realization that I'm looking at my father.

Not the one who was currently somewhere in Erudite, whisked away while I was in Dauntless and who had yet to return. But Harrison, the one from the photos. The one who had smiled when he held me in a picture taken forever ago. The one who looked like Zander, had the same color eyes as me, and the same mischievous grin as Forrest.

Everything clicks together, and I could slap myself for not figuring this out sooner.

Maybe I didn't want to.

Maybe putting the puzzle pieces in their rightful place would hurt. Admitting my mother had a life before my father –one which was interwoven so tightly there was no way for her to separate it –made her too human. It brought up all kinds of questions I didn't have the answers to and would never get out of her.

But now, the answer is right in front of me.

"Hi."

I approach him slowly, and he approaches me the same way. His boots are as shiny as Eric's, but he commands a different level of respect. I can tell he's just as dangerous and just as quick, but he's unlike Eric with how gentle he is, especially his expression. He stares at me the same way everyone does these days –first to make sure I'm not hurt, then to make sure I'm really not hurt –before his stare relaxes.

"Hi Everly."

The way he says my name is painstaking, and he stops a step away.

"Is my mom here?" I look around, expecting to see her, but I don't. All I see is forest, dark and sprawling and covered in faint snow, and the backdrop of Amity. Members stumbling in as they prepare for the weather to take an even sharper turn, and kids running along and trying to catch snowflakes. They're far enough away from us that the sounds of them are muffled, and it only amplifies the slow, dream like state of this encounter. "Did you bring her back?"

He hesitates.

It's like watching myself try to avoid a question, and I know the answer is no.

His stare skates over me, into the depths of Amity behind me.

"She had to stay there. Hank is not…he's not doing so great. I told her I'd come back and talk to you." Harrison answers carefully. He stays put, letting me come closer to him.

In this second, I'm reminded of Eric. Eric liked to watch the world unfold, giving people the chance to prove how stupid they are. He was careful to let people reveal their true selves, which handed him the ultimate advantage. Harrison doesn't want that, but he's giving me the chance to go talk to him or leave and pretend none of this is happening.

"Is she okay?" I stop right in front of him, and the look on his face changes. There's a flash of guilt, and I want to tell him I've been struggling with it all week. "No?"

"She's alright. There's not much anyone can do. Daniel has been working hard to find answers, but there are complications."

"What kind of complications?" I stare at him, and in this moment, I wish he'd tell me who he really is. It's selfish given why he's here, but I wanted him to tell me everything.

Why he'd never once come around to see how I was.

Why he didn't live here.

Why he'd left.

My chest feels overwhelmingly tight at the thought. It was odd to want someone around who I didn't know, but it felt the same as being homesick for Eric's apartment.

Neither of these things were mine, but they felt like they should be.

"It's an unusual case. He's got the labs working on it now. Daniel put some pressure on Jeanine, and she gave him what he wanted." Harrison answers carefully, and I wait.

Around us, the snowfall is dizzying. It picks up with the wind, sticking to my hair and my sweater, and it lands on his collar.

He's so close I could touch him, but he stays perfectly still.

"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry. I should have come back sooner," Harrison looks at me, and the hollow space in my chest tightens.

I know what he's doing. He's giving me the chance to take this one of two ways: We can both pretend he's talking about my father, or I can ask him if he is my real father.

The decision sways back and forth, tempting me with ignorance or bliss.

I figure I don't really have much left to lose.

"Did you ever come back to see me? When I was little?" I take a small step closer to him, and everything hurts. "I found the notebook on our bookshelf. I found the names and the percentages and the map of Dauntless. I found a picture of you and me from years ago. You're…you're not just here to tell me about my father, are you? You're here to tell me you are my father."

The agony of the situation cracks apart.

His relief is plain as day. After years of keeping this a secret, or trying to, it's obvious this situation has weighed down on him.

"I left the notebook on purpose. I figured you would find it one day and figure it out," he looks down, and his gaze is heavy. "I did come back for a while. For a long time, actually. Once Hank came around, things got weird. It became…obvious he had a permanent place here and I did not."

"Does Forrest know?" I ask him, and his expression turns guilty. "Does everyone know but me? The people in Amity? Everyone in Dauntless?"

"I'm sure most assume. Forrest knows. He was older when I had to leave and your mother asked that no one say anything to you. Hank wanted to make things work and it was too complicated having both of us showing up. You didn't like him for a while. He loathed the idea that you weren't as accepting as Forrest was and my presence put a strain on that."

"Do you live in Dauntless?" This question seems dumb, but I realize I can't be sure of anything. "Eric said you asked him what his intentions were when it came to me."

This makes him smile.

He cracks the barest of grins. "I do live there. My plan was to work for a few years, fulfill my obligations and split. I wasn't planning on your mother marrying Hank. As for Eric, of course, I asked. I've worked with him long enough. I wanted to make sure he wasn't dicking around."

For the first time in my life, there's a flash of fatherly support thrown my way. It feels funny, someone caring about my wellbeing in a different way than how it looked to others. It also feels good.

It's something I'm not familiar with.

"Eric is a force to be reckoned with. He has almost no one who can tell him no, and he knows this. When I heard he was interested in someone in Amity, I wanted to make sure it wasn't for the reasons I thought it was. I was wrong when I assumed the worst of him, but I didn't want him to hurt you. He's not one of the nicer members of Dauntless."

"I'm hearing that a lot," I confess, and he shrugs.

"In his defense, he's not supposed to be nice. He leads the faction. His job is to be strong and fearless, to set an example of what's expected. But it gives him the reputation of being an asshole, that and his general dislike of almost everyone there. He's not who I would've hoped you'd end up with, but he's proven he's worried about you. This whole situation is driving him up the wall. For once, it's not a problem he can solve with his fists."

I find myself smiling. The confirmation of what Eric felt for me feels good, even if it would be a struggle for anything to really happen. "I went to Dauntless for the Leadership Dinner. I saw you there and…"

I stop when his smiles falters for a moment.

"I saw you, too. I also saw you leave with Eric." He gives me a look, and I realize this is what I've been missing in my life. The man who I had thought was my father had never expressed any concern past me not wanting to marry Landon and how it would come across for the family. My mother wasn't telling me to run from Eric because she'd already experienced the same thing I was going through. Harrison is looking at me like he just busted me sneaking out.

Which I sort of did.

"How is he? I haven't seen him in a few days." I try to change the subject, but Harrison is smarter than that.

"I know you talk to him all the time. He spends more time looking at his phone than anything else these days. He's fine. Pissed off as usual, annoying with his demands, but fine. He's mad he's been in Erudite and he can't get out of it."

"I don't think he's annoying."

"Oh, I know you don't," Harrison answers quickly, and his next words are what I've been waiting to hear. "Everly, I'm sorry no one ever told you. I want you to know it wasn't my decision and I respected what your mother asked. But I've made sure you were alright. I tried to come back whenever I could. I have people watching Landon. Eric has soldiers everywhere here, trying to keep them away from you. I just…if I could go back, I wouldn't have left her. I would have taken her with me."

His words are familiar, wrought with heartache and regret, and I nod.

"Do you know my dad doesn't really like me? He never has. He didn't even believe me about Landon," I blurt this out without thinking, and I want Harrison to like me. There's a desperate wave of something I've never felt before, a longing to have someone understand what was going on.

Eric did, on some level.

But not like this.

There's also a wave of guilt at this confession. I'd forgiven my dad for not believing me, but the sting hadn't gone away entirely.

"You didn't like him for a long time. You didn't want him around and he didn't like that," Harrison pauses, and he reaches out gingerly. He touches the sleeve of my sweater, warm and worn, and his smile holds years of separation between us. "I'm sorry he didn't listen. Hank is a good man. I think it hurt when you didn't immediately take to him. I know he likes you, though. If he didn't, I'd have stepped in. It's not an easy task to take on someone else's children and raise them as your own. He had to feel some resentment from you, even if you didn't mean it."

"So you're…you're my real father, and Forrest's real father and…" I stop before I can mention my youngest brother, but I don't have to.

Harrison nods again.

"Zander is mine. I'm trying to fix the mistakes I've made. It's not easy, and in fact, if I were anyone else, I couldn't be here at all. I wasn't planning on having any more children. But it's easy to see he's not Hank's."

"Do you have a family in Dauntless?" The questions come one after another, evoking a wave of jealousy that is hot. Had I lived in Dauntless, my life would have been completely different. "Do you have a wife and kids there?"

"No," he answers immediately. "The only person I have ever loved is your mother. I was hoping you'd pick Dauntless. I thought maybe you'd choose it over Amity, and I would get to have you around. I'm proud of you regardless. Eric fills me in on everything that happens, and I don't think anyone else here would have tried to fight off Landon. I think it goes unsaid that you're pretty brave and—"

He doesn't finish his sentence.

The amount of surprising grief I feel forces my eyes to shut. I didn't know him past what I was learning, but I wish I did. I wish he'd been around, or maybe I'd lived elsewhere, because not once had anyone ever really been proud of me.

Annoyed that I didn't fit in, sure. Desperate for me to have a place in Amity and not make any waves? Yes. Glad I was alive? Or could babysit? Or was someone to work here and help grow the faction? Absolutely.

But proud?

Never.

I'm so thrown off I don't even realize what I'm doing.

My head hits his chest, and his arms are around me before I know what's happening. It's a lot like the way my dad hugged me, tightly, desperate to convey what he couldn't say, except this is completely different.

I keep my eyes closed for a long time, because with them shut, he feels like being home.

"Did you ask him if he's your father?

Eric watches me from his perch against the counter. His eyes are trained on my fingers, and I focus on not chopping one off. Every so often, I think he's going to come and yank the knife away from me. He does his best not to flinch when I cut too close, and he clears his throat when I pause, trying to figure out how much to cut up.

He'd shown up right after Harrison had left.

I knew Harrison's confession in the middle of the pathway was just the tip of the iceberg. It was obvious there was more to his story than he let on, maybe more than I'd ever know. The rest of our unspoken questions were halted when my phone rang again, and this time, it wasn't Rylan demanding I come to his party, but Eric.

He announced he was coming by and then asked to speak to Harrison.

Two mmmhmmms and one eyeroll later, Harrison announced he was leaving.

I hesitated to say goodbye. It was unfair that I'd finally gotten him to tell me who he was, and it was like we were being robbed of our chance to really talk. But he explained he was being sent to Erudite to see Jeanine, and Eric was coming here. Harrison didn't seem mad, more like he expected this, and he handed my phone back with a smirk.

A whopping two minutes later, there he was.

I had the advantage from where I stood of seeing him before he saw me. I flashed back to the first time I crashed into him, unaware of how my whole world would be turned upside down with one single interaction. He walked with the same, arrogant saunter. His gaze swept over the Amity faction with a look of disinterest. His eyes were unenthusiastic; they narrowed at the new lush piles of snow against the trees, and they skipped over the members as though they were beneath him.

His sneer stopped when he saw me.

His head tilted, the arrogance rising up again as he bit his cheek, and the sharp jut of his jaw told me he was daring someone to ask him why he was here, or what he wanted from me.

He didn't blink, other than when Carole squawked at him from her porch to call off his lapdogs. She ranted how she'd never killed anyone, then corrected herself to say she'd never killed any chickens, then openly confessed if she wanted to, she would guess one had to cook a chicken in oil followed by one unhinged laugh.

He paid no attention to her or her blurted out confession.

He walked toward me, his stride powerful and long, but easy.

Harrison had been wrong.

Eric might not have been able to get his way with his fists, but he'd gotten it today. He'd sent Harrison to deal with whatever he'd left in Erudite and he'd come here, proving he could get his way.

Now, he stands in the kitchen, looking irritable.

"Clearly you've never trained with anything knife related before." Eric's bark breaks my train of thought, and I look up in surprise. He leaves the side of the counter to come stand behind me, and a mere second passes before my back is against his chest. His arms snake around me, one encompassing my waist to pull me back, and the other slickly plucks the knife from my fingers. "Even Four has better form than this."

His hands cover mine, and there's an elegance to how easily he moves.

"That cuts deep, Eric." I joke.

He snorts in response, but he sighs when I sink against his chest and let him take over.

He works quickly.

He dices up the chicken, hopefully not one that Carole had been near, and it's mesmerizing. At one point, he nudges me closer to the counter, and he helps me dice the pieces up even smaller. The vegetables are next, and we're both quiet as he lops the head off a piece of broccoli.

"Do you cook a lot?" Eric murmurs, sweeping the carrots and snap peas together. "It doesn't matter. I can teach you how to cook. Or not. I'll make you dinner whenever you want, Amity."

I nod my head, not sure which one I'm answering but it doesn't matter. In a shocking turn of events, he's the one talking and I'm the one being quiet.

It's not for any crazy reason.

I was still reeling from discovering the man I'd grown up with isn't who I thought he was. While Harrison being my father is news to me, I have a feeling Eric knew. I didn't think he'd have anything negative to say about the situation; he'd praised Harrison for his work in Dauntless, and he frequented his bar.

It just felt personal.

The secret swirled around my head, making me wonder what would have happened if I had chosen to go to Dauntless and my own father would have been there.

"Do you think I could have made it through Four's class?" I watch as Eric neatly tosses everything into the pan on the stove. He'd been the one to turn it on, and I wondered who taught him to cook. "If I had picked Dauntless?"

"No."

Eric angles his elbows in tighter, not even bothering to pretend he's not trying to keep me close.

"Really?" My disappointment is apparent, because he nods, and his chin touches the crown of my head. "Not even if I tried hard?"

"No. Four's not a bad trainer, but there is no individual attention given to initiates. You might stand a chance if someone could personally train you, but you'd be at a disadvantage from the start." His answer is even, and there's not even the malice I would expect. "Before you get any ideas, I'm not backing Four as a trainer. I think he's questionable at best. However, he does follow the rules given. He trains anyone who shows up, and scores them appropriately. A few years ago, he had a personal interest in a few initiates, and it blew up in his face."

"Would you have helped me? What if I bumped into you in a hallway in Dauntless?" I lean back further, and his snicker is immediate.

"No."

"Yes, you would have!" I protest, and he shakes his head. His arms relax as he reaches for seasoning, and he eyes the top of the stove with disdain. "What? You don't like stir fry?"

"I do, I just don't know who you're cooking for. Aren't you the only one here?"

He's rightfully suspicious.

My brothers and sisters have not returned home, not entirely. I still wasn't insulted. They were running back and forth between May's and Forrest's, and honestly, it was fine. It was the first time I wasn't responsible for them. While I missed them, I wasn't the one waking them up for school or making sure they brushed their teeth. They came home sporadically. Wesley had snuck in to grab a few shirts, and Holly had skipped down the stairs, giggling to Paisley about someone in her class.

I just didn't want to explain to Eric that I really had no clue how to cook for less than an army.

"I was hoping you'd stay for dinner. Since you sent Harrison to Erudite," I answer brightly, and I notice the start of a slow smile from him. "I think I made enough."

"You made enough for the whole faction," he mutters. "And then some."

He sprinkles whatever seasoning he picked out on top of the vegetables, and he turns to look at me. I stare at him, his black shirt short sleeved despite the weather and his black pants, and he exudes Dauntless. His hair is parted, the tattoos on his forearm curl around the harsh muscle, and the heavy rings in his ears look larger.

He observes me standing there, the pink dress grazing the tops of my feet, the sleeves ruched and not at all warm, and my bare feet.

His eyes don't leave me, and I wonder what he thinks.

If the person he's been sneaking out to see couldn't look more like they were from Amity, or if he secretly liked it. Christina had been dressed normally, her shirt and pants dark, and I didn't see anyone who really stood out.

Maybe that's why he kept coming back here.

"Rylan asked if I was going to his party. I would say yes, but I don't have a way to get there, nor do I know what he's celebrating," I tell him, and he leaves the stove. He walks over to me, just a few steps from where he was standing, and he stops to glance down. I crane my head up at him, right as his fingers touch my hair.

He works quickly.

He undoes the way I've pinned it back, and it falls down and almost immediately toward him.

"He's celebrating the day he became a leader." His answer is quiet, and so is the way he touches my neck. He skims over where Landon had tried to choke me, and his thumb strokes over the very point where Landon knew to press. "Every year he celebrates his anniversary. He says it was the best day of his life."

"Is he a good leader?" I don't move, and Eric's gaze is miles away.

"Yes. I'm sure you've figured out he can be out of control, but at the end of the day, there's no one more loyal than Rylan. He would go to the ends of the Earth for anyone he cares about. Which is why he wants you there."

"Do you think I can go?" I close the tiny gap between us, and he blinks. I reach up to touch his shirt, and he lets me slide my arms around his neck to pull him down. "I like to celebrate. I tried to find him a gift but all I found was a haunted doll."

He cocks a pierced eyebrow at me. "A haunted doll? Where?"

"At the market," I inch closer, and I figure I might as well tell him I saw his father. "I um, I went with Jerry. When I was there, I saw…"

I trail off, and Eric waits.

Patiently.

His gaze falls to my mouth, and when it returns to my eyes, I know he knows.

"I saw your dad."

There is silence.

Unending, thick silence working us apart until he speaks.

"He told me," Eric finally answers, and his tone is unimpressed. "He asked if I would bring you to dinner sometime."

"He was very nice," I half whisper this, because now he looks annoyed. "He said-"

"He's not nice. I'm sure he came off that way, but you don't know him. There's no reason for you to get to know him. He's disappointing once you figure out he never stops working and there is nothing more important in his life than his work. He might have been nice to a girl from Amity bumping into him, but you'll gain absolutely nothing from eating dinner with him." Eric snaps, and his gaze burns against mine.

My chances of eating dinner with Daniel vanish, but I don't want them to. I liked his dad. I felt like he was very kind, and he seemed to like me. Superficial reasons at best, but it was something.

"I should have told you. He's helping my father and I wanted to ask how he's doing," I chew on my lips and Eric's fingers tense. One hand drops to my lower back, and the other moves to the nape of my neck. His nails scrape as he pulls me closer, shaking his head.

"I know. He didn't have any information when I called. He said he'd call me back and never did." The annoyance in his voice is understandable, but also not entirely annoyance.

"He bought me a cookie and invited me to dinner," I grin, watching him roll his eyes. "I liked him. Maybe you and I could give him a chance. He made my day better."

"Well there you go," Eric mutters, and he drops his head down before I can tell him I also saw Ashley. "The hero we all need. Daniel Coulter, saving the world one dessert at a time."

He kisses me before I can laugh, or protest that I truly liked his father. His lips touch mine slowly, and he moves his other hand to my back. He turns us around so my back hits the counter, then picks me up to sit me on the counter. He shoves the cutting board away, then the knife, and he takes my face in his hands.

His palms are warm, even though his eyes aren't.

"He'll disappoint you, too. Don't let him fool you."

Those words are the last thing I hear.

Eric kisses me so hard my head hits the cabinet. His mouth attacks mine, nipping and biting until my hands slide into his hair, and I feel him grin. He kisses alongside my jaw, below my ear, and I squirm when his teeth scrape over my neck.

I'm so lost in the moment that both of us jump when the knock interrupts us, loud and impatient.

"So you know? And…. you know?"

Forrest watches Eric and me with a look of hope. He stares at Eric longer than would be acceptable, but Eric isn't bothered by the perusal of his dark shirt and short hair. Forrest is only looking to see if he can piece something together about Harrison; he's searching for a connection between the factions, however he can find it.

"I saw him talking to you, and then I saw him hug you!" Forrest continues, triumphant as ever, but Eric looks less triumphant. His gaze slides over to me slowly, over the large bowl of chicken stir fry he'd made, until it reaches my face.

"He hugged you?"

"Yeah, he told me. He and I talked about the notebook and how I found it and read that he was our father, and he…confirmed it. He said he tried to come back for a while, but it got too complicated. He hugged me once I knew it was really him." I twirl the noodles around my fork, wondering if this bothered Eric for some reason. "Should I not have hugged him?"

"No, you can hug him. Harrison is just…very…unemotional," Eric shrugs, and I wonder if he realizes the irony in his statement. "I've never seen him hug anyone. He asked me about you, but I know he was making sure you were alright."

"So now what? What are you going to do?" Forrest stabs a piece of chicken with his fork, and he waves it around wildly. "Everly?"

"Where is Willow? Did you leave her with everyone to come over here?"

"She's sleeping. Zander is sleeping. Paisley is on the porch with some guy, Holly is fixing my shirt, and Wesley and Leif are doing homework. They already ate. I had to work late but Dad told me he talked to you."

"Dad?" I repeat, and the rush of betrayal is quick. "You're calling him Dad?"

"He is my dad. And yours! Hank is a good guy, but at the end of the day, he's not our real father," Forrest looks defiant with this statement, then he shakes his head. "That sounds so rude. I love Hank, I do. I just…I got to know Harrison over the years and I've never thought of him any other way." He pauses to take a bite, and his eyes light up. "This is really good! Are you sure you made it?"

Beside me, Eric smirks.

He kicks my foot under the table, and I throw Forrest a withering glare.

"Most of it."

"I knew it. It's too edible." Forrest laughs, but it's not mean spirited. "I'm just teasing you. It's just that, Everly here, has never shown much interest in making dinner. I figured that's why everyone is at my house."

"They can come home. I just have initiation and it's probably safer for them to be with you," I say slowly, hoping he remembers things weren't exactly quiet around Amity. "I'd hate for them to be here when Landon shows up."

"You think he will?" Forrest pauses with his fork in the air, and he looks at Eric, not me. "You haven't…uh, handled him yet? I keep hearing how you're here to steal Everly. I thought for sure you'd be all over Landon for hurting her."

Eric chews his food with a dark glare, and I half expect him to not answer.

"Your sister picked the wrong faction. I'm going to take her to her rightful one," he swallows and shrugs. "But I have orders to keep her here for now. They think it'll screw things up if she vanishes in the middle of the night. Landon won't get close again. I promise you that much."

"I see," Forrest takes another bite of his dinner, and gazes thoughtfully at the ceiling. "And how are you going to take her with you? Aren't people watching? Is Harrison watching?"

"All the time," Eric shrugs, and he's unbothered by Forrest's very legitimate question. "Don't worry about how I'll get her to Dauntless. I can, and I will. Simple as that."

"Sure," Forrest agrees, and I watch the two of them go back and forth. They both eye the other one mistrustfully, and it's sort of funny. "Are you going to marry her? Or…what?"

Eric stops eating.

He doesn't so much tense up as he does try his best not to look at me. Given his reaction to the subject, it's very obvious the idea of marriage is something far beneath him. I couldn't imagine he would want a wife, much less want to be someone's husband. There was no honor in such a title for him. I don't know what he planned to do in Dauntless if he brought me there, but my guess is our relationship would stay the same.

Together, but apart.

"Do you want me to marry her?" Eric's words are so sharp I feel them scrape at my own skin, but they're directed at Forrest. "Do you think she can't take care of herself? That she needs to be married off? Wasn't that her whole issue with Landon?"

Forrest is stunned. He glances at me, furiously, like I can save him, but Eric has a good point.

So far, everyone assumed I needed everyone else to take care of me. First, I needed Landon to marry me, since it was obvious I couldn't live alone. When that plan fell through, I needed to stay with my parents, because they needed help and my own path was less important.

Now, I needed Eric to marry me, an idea which he'd already clearly dismissed, in order to stay alive.

I shake my head at both of them and decide maybe I'll marry no one. Maybe I'll move to an entirely different faction where neither my brother nor the Leader of Dauntless can sit at a table and discuss my inability to fight off the people who want to kill me or how I clearly couldn't do this alone.

I set my fork down with a slam, and they turn in surprise.

"Actually, I'm not marrying anyone. I can take care of myself. I already did. I punched Landon in the face when no one believed what he was doing and I went to the factionless meetings while you two didn't. So…maybe I don't want to get married. Maybe Eric is too old and maybe I'm moving somewhere else once initiation is over and no one can bother me." I pick the fork up, then stab my food to emphasize my point, and only Forrest reacts.

He leans away in surprise, and oddly enough, he looks to Eric for support.

He gets none.

Eric examines a piece of carrot intently, and he doesn't look happy.

"Um…well, okay but see Landon…" Forrest stumbles over his words, and he's guilty looking. "I wasn't saying you needed Eric to marry you so you'd stay alive, or maybe you do need Eric. Maybe that's…that's how this goes, that you leave with Eric and you're safe. I was thinking Eric would marry you because he likes you." He pauses, then steals a peek at Eric. "Which is why you're sitting in Amity, eating dinner, when I know you have all kinds of places to eat in Dauntless. Right?"

Eric eyes me, and I can only surmise that no one spoke to him like this. It had to be rare for someone to question what he was doing, or why he was doing it, and demand actual answers out of him.

In this case, he doesn't answer Forrest.

He looks at me, his lips turning down into a scowl, and he waits until I'm looking at him.

"I'm not that old."

"How old are you? Thirty eight? Forty?" Forrest dares to keep talking, and I suddenly hope he realizes he has to run home to Willow. "It's hard to tell. Not that there's anything wrong with being…older. Harrison is older and uh, okay that's a bad example."

"You did say I was too young," I remind Eric, and he cocks his head. "On the phone when you said you didn't want—"

"I already explained about Rylan," Eric snaps, and I quickly figure out this has nothing to do with me. "I'm trying to keep you alive. I promised you I would, and he has other ideas for what that means. I don't need –"

I wait for him to finish.

A girlfriend.

A wedding.

A wife.

Someone to ask him how his day was.

Anyone prying into his personal business.

I don't get the answer.

As if on cue, his phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket while he stares at me. He glances at the name across the screen, and he answers Four so darkly that I hope for his sake, Four has found Evelyn.

He hasn't.

A few minutes later, Eric hangs up, and wordlessly returns to his dinner.

I walk him out quietly.

I work not to shiver by pulling my sweater tighter. Eric had watched me pull it on silently, and he thinly asked if I had an actual jacket. I did; I had his jacket upstairs, but I didn't want to grab it. Ever since our dinner, he'd been flat out irritated over the fact that I said he was too old to marry.

The irony of this isn't lost on me.

I didn't really think six years was too much older than me. I didn't even care that he was older than me. It was interesting to see him annoyed over something he couldn't control. I got the feeling his new savior complex was wounded when I said I didn't need to marry him.

The most ironic part of all, was neither of us were the ones talking about getting married. Rylan had brought it up to Eric, and Forrest had brought it up to me. The question was a good one, and ultimately necessary: what would I do in Dauntless if I wasn't his wife?

If the situation were reversed, and Eric wanted to come live here, he could. While hilarious in thought, our faction was very accepting of anyone who wanted to join us. Johanna clearly had no issue with the factionless, and most didn't want to live here. They just wanted some temporary help or a place of respite before moving on. But if Eric showed up and announced he wanted to stay and work, he'd be allowed.

In a lot of ways, Amity refuted all the rules, but not for malicious reasons. If you could get along, be a productive part of the community, and help out others, you were welcomed. All Amity asked was that you participate. In the event that you couldn't physically work in our fields or wrangle sheep, there were other options and plenty of them.

I had no clue what Dauntless held. If I had to guess, I would assume you either became a soldier, took an office job, or worked at their bar. Maybe they had openings in the shops, or maybe there were jobs to feed the faction, like here.

None of those felt like the appropriate counterpart of someone who was a Leader.

I thought of this while Eric angrily chewed the dinner he had cooked. He and Forrest really didn't talk, and the awkwardness was cut short when Forrest bolted up and announced he had to go home. He helped wash his dishes, hugged me goodbye and half hissed he was sorry but he'd been wondering if Eric would force me to marry him and he knew arranged marriages weren't my thing, and then he was gone.

I cleaned up the rest of the dinner while Eric took another phone call –this one from Max, recapping who they'd found today and how they could use them to their advantage –then he hung up. He told me he had to go back to Dauntless now, and I offered to walk him to the truck.

He didn't argue.

He was silent as we passed May's house, and silent as we passed the stables.

He only spoke when we neared the very edge of Amity, and his truck loomed in the distance like an oversized predator.

"I'm twenty-four. Not forty."

He glances down at me out of the corner of his eye, trying not to look right at me. He throws this out not at all casually, but pointedly, to remind me that he'd told me this.

It was one of the pieces of information that he'd willingly offered up.

"I know how old you are," I look up at him, and my fingers brush his. He'd stayed a careful distance away, and he'd clenched his jaw the entire time. "But I don't know what I'd do in Dauntless. Forrest has a point."

"Anything you want," he answers quickly, and his fingers graze mine.

A second passes between us, and he looks further away as he takes my hand in his. His hand is warm as he holds on tightly, sliding his fingers between mine. I was starting to feel like the physical connection was important, but these gestures were more important. He didn't seem like someone who wanted to hold hands, nor like someone who wanted me to show up as his fiancée.

He was his own mystery, but I was doing my best to figure him out.

"I thought you didn't want a wife or a family," I figure he'll either answer or yank his hand away, and the whole moment is surreal. It's strange to walk along with him, and there's a pull to leave. To climb in the truck and ask that he not make me go back home. "The more I think about this, the more I'm not sure what you want or what…what this is."

His stare is stuck on the truck.

He slows down slightly, and he parts his lips like it's painful.

"I told you. I have no need for a wife or family. I don't think you understand this. I have a job to do there and in Erudite and –"

"Do you mean Divergents?" I interrupt him this time and his head jerks in my direction. "Are you still looking for them?"

"It's not my main concern right now, but yes."

"And if you found one, you would have to take them to Jeanine?" This question burns at my mind, and I have the nagging feeling I could fall into this category. The percentage was low, so low that it felt impossible that I disliked Amity so much, but it was still there and it could count.

I suddenly realize if I were to go with Eric, I'd be trapped.

His promise that he wouldn't hurt me might not hold up against Jeanine.

"Why are you asking me this?" Eric turns sharply, and he's right in front of me. "I promised I wouldn't hurt you. I promised I'd keep you safe. And now you're what? Afraid because your brother thinks I'm going to drag you to Dauntless and force you into some marriage? You just said you didn't want to get married, so fine. Don't get married. I certainly didn't ask you to marry me and I promise I never will."

"Would you even have asked?" I stare up at him, and I'm not afraid. The more I'm around Eric, the more I realize basic human emotions aren't easy for him.

Why would they be?

If he'd had all this power for so long, it would be easy for him to disregard anyone he thought was weak. Weak soldiers weren't what he wanted, and anyone weak would mean failure. The real struggle was this- holding my hand and wanting me to go with him but being pissed off that I didn't want to marry him and the inability to voice all this.

"No." He answers arrogantly, and his grip on my hand grows tighter. "I wouldn't. I'd just…I'd take care of everything myself. I'm not about to propose to anyone."

"Ever?" I smile up at his grey eyes, currently flashing with anger and a whole lot of other things, and I wonder if he's serious. "What if I wanted to marry you?"

"You shouldn't. That would be an incredibly stupid idea. You have no idea the risks it would bring or the target it would place on your back or what it even entails. There's paperwork, a ceremony at which all leaders are required to be present, and more bullshit that I have no interest in."

"What if I was older? What if I was nineteen? Would you ask me then?"

"Everly," Eric's eyes flash and I'm now familiar with the landscape of his patience. It's short. "You just said you didn't want to marry Landon and you don't want to marry me. So, if you're waiting for me to ask if you'd like to get married anytime soon–"

I cut him off by rising up on my toes to kiss him. He freezes for a single second, then drops my hand to grasp onto me. His desperation is amusing, the same way I'm sure my logic is amusing to him. He sinks his hands into my hair, clinging onto me the best he can, and he groans my name when he exhales. It echoes into the night, cold and biting, and I smile against his lips and he says it again, like a question.

"I accept your proposal, Eric." I kiss him once more, his face stunned and confused, and I find him more handsome than ever.

His lips part, but he closes his mouth, and looks at me like I've told him Johanna was hiding Evelyn in the stables.

His expression makes me smile even wider. He isn't mad that I said I didn't want to marry him, or that I asked him about hunting Divergents. He's not even mad that I'm stuck here while he's in Dauntless or that someone always seems to interrupt us just when things get good, or that I took his words to hint that he does want to get married.

He's mad that for the first time ever, he wants everything he claims he doesn't.

I don't hear from him for an entire day.

It's not surprising.

After I told him I accepted his proposal, which he definitely had not offered, he stared at me. His expression was pure disbelief, and for once, I had the upper hand.

I liked it.

Eric blinked and raised both his eyebrows at me, but I didn't give him a chance to point out he hadn't really asked me to marry him. I was figuring out he liked being in charge, and he wanted to save me, and taking me away from Amity was just that. It seemed like it felt good for him; his job hunting Divergents, reporting to his aunt, and perhaps even finding Evelyn, were slowly growing tiresome. He craved control over some aspect of his life, even with me.

So he didn't like my words that I didn't want to get married, because it was my terms, not his.

Deep down, I wasn't opposed to the idea. While I had no clue how to be his wife, I liked him. I liked being with Eric, I liked that he was concerned about me, and I liked that he had feelings for me. I liked his friends, I liked his dad, I even liked Camille. I was sure I could fit into Dauntless, and I was more sure than ever that this wasn't the juvenile crush it had started out to be. It wasn't even anything describable, but something more.

I would say it was love, because he was risking a lot by coming here to see me, and I was risking everything for the very idea of him, but Eric doesn't believe in love.

Ashley was slowly fading as someone I'd have to compete against, but that didn't mean I could just wait for Eric to show up and save me from a life of listening to Zander imitate a chicken. I would save myself, and I'd do it by calling him.

Eric answers immediately, his voice low and rough, and once I figure out the background noise –plenty of shouts and cheers, and even a few insults –I realize he's at Clyde's. The growl from his throat is quick; it's obvious he's had a little more to drink than normal, and his usual stoic persona splinters when he says my name, and someone starts clapping.

"I'll be back."

"Wait! No! I promise I won't say anything! I swear! I won't even ask her what she thinks of your new hair!"

Eric stands up from wherever he is, and I hear Rylan's protest. I hear Jason, too, laughing as he tells Rylan he's incapable of staying quiet, and the two argue until it's so faint that I can't hear them. There's a moment of silence, of Eric roughly telling someone to get out of his way, and then quiet again as he makes it out of Clyde's.

"What are you doing, Amity?"

He puts a slight separation between us, but not really. He says my real name right after, like he's sorry for not saying it in the first place.

"Everly?"

"I'm…trying to dye Zander's clothes so they're black. The first time made them darker, but he wants them black. I was just calling to see what you were doing," I answer carefully, dumping the bottle of black dye into the sink. It explodes in a delightful way, streaking through the water until the whole sink is dark. "I was thinking that maybe I shouldn't go to Rylan's anniversary party."

"Why?"

His voice is slow, and by now, I can picture the look on his face. Frustrated, but curious. "He really wants you to come. He said he'd be willing to put it off until you're here."

"I like him. I think he's fun," I grab a wooden spoon, stained dark with black, and I gingerly stir the clothes and water together. "I don't even know how I'd get there. I mean, do you really think I can go to Dauntless? Everything is a mess here. My mom isn't even back and apparently my father can't remember anything. The neighbor is watching my brothers and sisters. Jerry is…creating an elaborate set up to keep the squirrels out of his new fountain. Dauntless seems impossible."

Eric is quiet. I listen to the sounds of Dauntless around him, creaking echoes and faint shouting, and his heavy exhale.

"Then it would be the perfect time to come to Dauntless. None of what's going on is your responsibility."

His reminder is a good one. He's not wrong that I'm not the one who should be keeping the family together, but the guilt is immense.

"I meant to tell you, I talked to Daniel. Briefly. He was at dinner with Camille and he asked how you were," Eric offers this up like a peace offering, soothing the thought of things not going well. "Camille asked, too."

"Why was he at dinner with her? She's not your mom, is she?"

"No," he lets out a bark of humorless laughter. "She's his assistant. They were eating at the hospital. It's not unusual for him not to be home until the early morning. He didn't have anything great to report other than that your father is unusually angry and has asked to go home."

"Oh," I stare at the dark water, and I feel sort of defeated. This news isn't great, and it only lessens my chances of ever leaving the Amity faction. "Are you…did you think about what I said? I didn't hear from you today and I thought maybe I'd never hear from you again."

I'm met with the familiar response of Eric taking this in and not responding. He finally sighs, but it's not what I'm expecting.

"Oh, I thought about what you said. I made the mistake of telling Rylan. Christina has already volunteered as tribute to help plan the wedding party."

His words make me smile, stupidly, against a sink of black dye and toddler clothes. He's definitely not mad, but sort of resigned over his friend taking the idea and running with it.

"I didn't propose Amity, but I guess I could accept your proposal since you're so desperate to marry me." Now he sounds smug, and I can tell he's trying not to smile. "You can do whatever you want when you're here."

"Would I live with you?"

The idea blossoms out of nowhere, given that I've been to his apartment once. I wonder how it would feel to live there, or if I'd like living with someone else.

"Or do I have to live with Christina?"

He snorts. I hear him mutter a low hello to someone, but it's disinterested. "I think you'd rather stay in Amity than live with Christina."

"Do I get my own closet? At either apartment?" I step away from the sink to look out the window, and I smile despite the growing piles of snow. "Or just space for that one dress?"

"Here I am, trying to take you to your rightful faction, and you demand an entire closet. You better watch yourself," Eric answers lowly, and there's a muffled sound of someone yelling his name. "I gotta go back in there. Rylan has been here since lunch. I doubt he'll be able to walk home."

"Okay," I sigh, and I dread him hanging up.

He was no prince in shining armor, but he was the closest thing to happiness I had these days.

"Everly, are you okay?" Eric asks, and his tone changes. "You can have the whole closet. I don't care. I don't care what you do or what you don't do."

He pauses as I nod, and I know he can't see me, and that's a good thing.

His next words make my eyes close as I nearly buckle under the optimism of a life with him.

"You can have whatever you want. I just want you here, with me."

Jake's return is a complete surprise

It's even more of a surprise because I'm not actually in my initiation class but waiting patiently to talk with Johanna. I find him at the very top step, rocking back and forth on his heels while Johanna finishes writing something.

He looks at me with a grin, and his eyes light up.

"Hey! I didn't think I'd see you. Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Aren't you?" I smile back, but I'm not in the most amazing of moods. Since talking the other night, I hadn't heard from Eric. I might have screwed everything up by saying I would marry him, but I didn't think it was that. He'd kissed me before he left, one more quick press of his lips to mine, then stalked back to the truck without a single glance in my direction. I watched him drive off, and I caught a flash of his eyes in the side mirror, along with his smirk.

"I'm… actually here to talk to her about initiation and what I'll be doing after. I missed my meeting the other day, and Jerry told me to come here now."

"How is he? I bet he feels horrible about the stuff with Landon." Jake speaks quietly, and we both linger on the top step. "Everyone in my class is just waiting to hear what happens next. Karl offered to come work here but Eric told him to shut up and get back in class."

"They know?" I try to figure out if his new friends would care, but it's clear they do. "Did Four tell you?"

"Nah, he's gone. He never came back after Eric attacked him. I did see him the other day in the mess hall, but we've had Lauren for a few days. We had Rylan this morning, and uh, that was exciting. I'm not sure what type of soldier he's used to training, but my legs feel like jello. The dude made us run to the abandoned buildings and then back, twice. He did it with us and was barely out of breath. He only stopped to fix his hair."

"That's intense," I pause, and Johanna looks in our general direction. She frowns, and resumes scrawling something on the paper in front of her. "Did you like Four?"

"He was fine, but he lost interest in us after the first few weeks. He started to look stressed and then when you showed up, he looked like he was going to throw up. But I would, too, if I knew Eric was about to beat the shit out of me."

"Do you like Eric? What do people think of him?" I cross my arms, more to keep warm than anything, and he shrugs.

His uniform is new.

It's the same dark one Jason and Rylan have, and it has the same blue stripe on the arm.

I stare at it until he answers, and for some reason, the blue makes my stomach hurt.

"From the few interactions I've seen, it's safer to like Eric and stay out of his way than dislike him." Jake freezes, and his smile turns tentative. "I heard he really likes you. There's a rumor he's bringing you to Dauntless. No one knows it's you, but I sort of put it together when I saw you with him. Plus, a few people said they saw you at Clyde's. Some people said it wasn't you, but they didn't know who he was with."

"It was me," I smile, and out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Johanna puts her pen down. "I'd like to go there, but things are weird these days. I'm not really sure what's going on, or if I could leave. My dad was attacked and he can't remember anything. He's still in Erudite."

"What?" Jake is horrified, but before he can ask me anything else, Johanna calls us over. "Shit, wait for me after this. I want to make sure Hank is okay."

I nod, and I turn my attention to Johanna.

She smiles tightly, and the next ten minutes are one big misstep.

She listens to Jake with her head tilted, and every so often, she presses something on the keyboard in front of her. Her eyes flash at me when Jake insists that he's just here to make sure the cameras near the Dome are working, and he hints that she knows they aren't.

"We can go look at them now. Everly, will you wait here? I'll be right back. You can have a seat and we'll talk about your post initiation plans."

"Sure."

Johanna rises up, and I move to let her and Jake go past. I stand to the side, and once she's down the stairs, I turn my stare to her desk. The computer has gone dark, but I'm not looking at that.

The papers on her desk are from Dauntless, all demanding her signature and complete and total compliance with their army.

"What are you asking her to do?"

I duck my head down as I walk, waving hello to May and no one else. I push past the swarm of members taking up the entire pathway, and I have to forcibly move through the crowd. I have no idea what they're looking at or why they're congregating here, but only that they're in my way.

Eric sighs in my ear.

I hear a chair creak, and I bet he's in his office.

"We're asking her to cease her alliance with the factionless. By our command, she is to stop all contact, cease all aid, and cut all ties with Evelyn. She's being asked to provide us with the information we want, such as where Evelyn is or where she's hiding the army, and failure to do so makes Amity not just our jurisdiction, but our faction."

"What?" I gasp at this, and I'm nearly knocked out of the way by someone running past me. "Can you do that?"

"Yes," Eric's answer is flat, and our temporary engagement is long forgotten as he sighs even louder. "It's not ideal, but if she is unable to lead her faction in a manner that is not a threat to the others, we can temporarily take it over. We'll put someone in her place. It's a loophole that Jack Kang came up with last year in the event that a threat to a faction becomes greater than they can handle. It allows us full control until we've taken care of the issue at hand."

"Would you be here? Does that mean you'd stay here?" I near the edge of the crowd, and I come to a dead halt. "Oh my God. Oh my God, no! Eric are you watching? Are you watching this?!"

"What are you talking about? Everly? Everly!"

He says my name insistently, but I can't answer him.

"Fuck." I come to a stop beside Andy, and he stares at the edge of the pathway with his mouth open and his stare swinging back and forth.

There, sprawling out in neat lines, armed and ready to attack, is the factionless army.


	20. Rise of the Factionless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading along!

Four stands with them.

His eyes lock on mine, and they are heavy with remorse and disbelief. His mouth turns downward, but he doesn't look away. He stands by Landon, shoulders collapsed and eyes dark, and I know he tried to stop them.

Even worse, I know he's been sent to stop them, and he's failed.

"What are they doing?" Andy takes hold of my arm, and in an act of panic, he tries to pull me away from them.

I can't move.

There is a dizzying amount of factionless, all in varying states of preparedness to fight. Some look strong, some look crazed, but almost all are looking at me.

"Everly! Fuck! Everly get back here! Everyone get back!"

The second voice is Jake, having broken away from Johanna and sprinted toward me. His expression is pure fear; his skin has paled to the color of one of Jason's ghosts and his brow knits inward. He says my name again, causing a few to turn in my direction, and the air grows quiet.

"Stand down, just…go back to where you came from! Come on, guys! This isn't you. You know this won't end well," Jake pleads, and in this moment, the boy from Amity is reborn. He takes hold of my other arm, and Andy lets go, giving him full authority over this matter. "You know Dauntless is watching. You know they'll be here soon. Some of you…some of you guys…we grew up together."

His voice cracks as he scans the factionless, and he's right; mixed in are people we both know, including a few of Landon's friends.

"Don't do this!" Jake insists, and he shakes his head. He's not the cruel killing machine Four promised Eric wanted, but an eighteen-year-old boy about to watch his home be destroyed.

"Landon…come on, call them off. Please."

Jake tries again. He lets go to step forward, summoning courage from deep within, and he pulls himself tall. He takes another step with both hands up, and the sea of factionless parts as Landon walks through them. He mirrors Evelyn in the way her soldiers parted for her; his hair has been cut shorter, his beard is wild, and his smirk is pious.

He fully believes they will win.

"Run back to Dauntless, Jake. This isn't about you."

Landon's words crackle in the air. There is no Evelyn behind him, not that I can see, only the endless rows of men and women who want our faction. The mistakes we've made, or really –the mistakes Johanna has made –are jaw dropping.

We'd fed them.

Clothed them.

Eaten dinner beside them and given them whatever they asked for.

We'd hired them. Gently tried to help any way we could, even going as far as to let some stay on the larger properties, or work in the fields. Married some of them. Done our best to live peacefully, including honoring their existence.

It's like they've forgotten this, in their quest to have it all.

Starting with the Amity faction.

"Dauntless will kill you before you can win. Don't pretend otherwise," Jake warns, but his words mean nothing to Landon.

Landon's slow smirk is eerily calm. "They won't. We aren't here to kill anyone if we can avoid it. We're here to claim what's rightfully ours. Johanna has already pledged to help in our crusade. She's offered her faction without question. When Dauntless does show up," he pauses to sneer at Jake, and then his stare finds me. "they'll find themselves outnumbered with all of your help."

He lets his words sink in, but they don't evoke the reaction he's expecting.

The members of Amity are not as accepting as he was hoping.

"No one here is helping you!" Someone calls out, and the careful façade of peace between us and the factionless cracks beneath the weight of our leader's betrayal. "Johanna has no right to give away anything here."

Landon is undeterred. He shrugs, and gestures for the army to come closer. They have some sort of signal, and I can't swallow when someone nods and hisses to get ready. Jake sees it, too.

"They're almost here, man. Stop this now!" Jake lies, and I know they aren't.

I can feel it.

Even if someone in Dauntless were watching, I don't know if they can hear what is going on. Landon and the army look like members of Amity. They're dressed carefully in our clothes, and there's not a spot of darkness amongst them. A quick glance at the Amity faction would show a large gathering with people talking, or having an intense discussion, and it isn't that uncommon.

Especially with Johanna standing off to the side, looking nauseous at the events unfolding before her.

I can only hope someone from Dauntless zooms in and realizes this isn't a factional meeting.

Unfortunately, Landon scoffs, and I know I don't have long. "It's too late. This starts and ends today."

"Landon, stop this. This isn't you."

I break away from Andy. I silently pray May is somewhere, or she's watching from her porch and has realized what's going on. The more people we have willing to stand up to Landon, the better, but I'm willing to do this alone if it buys us some time.

"You don't have to do this," I insist, trying to stay calm while heading straight for Landon. I figure since I've gotten away from him before, I can do it again. "Do you really think everyone here is going to join your army?"

"Fuck off, Everly," Landon spits, and his posture tenses. He's not immune to my presence, no matter how cavalier he acts. "Do you really think living in fear is right? You really think everything is fine the way it is? If it were, you wouldn't be trying desperately to find a way out of here."

"I'm not. I'm not leaving. My dad isn't even back yet," I answer, and I stumble trying not to slip in the snow.

It's colder than I had anticipated.

The skirt sticks to the fresh snow, like it's trying to prevent me from doing something stupid.

"You hurt him, didn't you? It was you."

I stop in front of Landon, ignoring the wiry hum of the army behind him. They are armed; the sight of the cold metal makes my heart race, and my stomach knots up at the thought of one of them raising a gun to shoot at me. None of them move, not until I stop in front of Landon.

The two closest to him draw closer, silently daring me to attack.

"Why would you hurt my dad? He didn't do anything. Now, he doesn't remember anyone. Not even my mother."

I stare up at Landon and he stares down at me. His stare is as emotionless as he can make it; his eyes are narrowed in disgust, and his mouth curves into a hiss of disapproval. There's not a single part of him I remember, not a trace of the Landon who sat beside Zander and me at a bonfire, helping us roast marshmallows.

"That's unfortunate," Landon answers so flatly that I struggle not to punch him in the face. "He promised me a lot of things you know. Including you. Give her time, give her space. She's just acting out. It'll happen. You can see why my belief in the Amity faction isn't so rock solid these days."

"You're serious?" I brush my hair out of my eyes, and I shake my head. "All this? You joined an army hell bent on destroying the factions because I wouldn't marry you?!"

He laughs.

It's spiteful and mean but reassuring that the fate of Amity had never hinged on a lifelong marriage with him.

"Don't be stupid. Not everything is about you. You think the whole world revolves around what Everly wants. Newsflash, you're not that important."

"I don't think wanting to be happy means the world revolves around me," I retort, and behind me, the crowd of Amity murmurs. They probably can't hear what I'm saying, but they can tell this isn't good. Landon gestures at someone to the side, and I shake my head pleadingly.

"Send your army back to the woods. I'll help you get what you want, but not like this. I agree that things need to change. But don't hurt the people who once cared about you for your own agenda. This has nothing to do with Evelyn."

"You wouldn't know the first thing about my agenda if I explained it to you," Landon goads me, and he only stops when Four moves. His gaze jerks to him, and he sneers. "Get back in line, Tobias. This isn't your moment. You could have had it when Evelyn told you she needed you and you didn't have the balls to follow through with anything."

Four does his best not to flinch. He looks at me, and he tenses his jaw until he can speak slowly. "She's not wrong. You don't want the Amity faction for Evelyn, you want it for yourself. You want to hurt her, and you're using this as your opportunity."

"Fuck off, Eaton! I already told you to get back in line. You don't lead this army. You had your chance. Men, get ready to attack. Those who are unwilling to help are of no use to us. Draw your weapons but use them wisely," Landon calls out, and Four catches my eye.

Unfortunately for him, I am not a trained soldier from Dauntless. I have no clue what he's silently trying to get me to do, or what I even should do. He holds my stare as the sounds from Amity grow louder: the crowd that's gathered begins to shout for the factionless to leave, and someone yells to grab May. Someone else yells to get Harrison. Jake yells for me to come back, but I can't turn around.

I refuse to let Landon think he's won, so I lunge for him with everything I have.

I punch him as hard as I possibly can. His nose immediately starts to bleed, and my fingers immediately start to throb. My mistake the first time I punched him was letting him recover, so this time, I hit him in the stomach, too, then shove him back. He folds over in a howl of pain, and when he forces himself upright, I grab onto him as hard as I can.

The rush is exhilarating, but terrifying.

My hands find his throat just like his found mine, and my fingers press into the sensitive spot above his adam's apple. He stumbles off balance in surprise, falling back into his friends, until he hits the ground, and I go down with him.

I don't let go.

Not even when his fingers claw wildly at me, his swears of my name coming in alternating rasps of pure and utter loathing as we both fight to have the upper hand. Not even when his friends try to pull me off him, or Jake comes running. Not even when I hear the cries from Amity as they yell in my defense, and a farmer I've only seen at dinner tackles the two friends.

The world of Amity explodes in violent delight, swelling up with a wave of defense I've never seen before.

Farmers, kitchen workers, and even Mable attack.

They rush the factionless, currently caught off guard as their leader fights my grasp, and they are quicker than those trained to fight. The factionless stand there motionless as Amity heads toward them to defend their territory, but not for long. The first row attacks. In a fog of rage, I catch Jerry knocking the gun out of someone's hands. I catch May, loudly ordering a section of the factionless back, and they listen. I see Four, angrily calling off the soldiers who look unsure of themselves, and I realize why Evelyn likes Landon so much.

He had been holding them together.

He was what Four could have been.

A few throw him withering stares, daring him to try and lead them now, and one heads right for him. I miss their fight as Landon struggles, and I have the sinking feeling I can't keep him down for long.

"You bitch," Landon gasps, and his nails dig into my skin. He scratches and claws with a feral energy, but it's lost in the noise of everyone around us. I'm vaguely aware of Four yelling as someone else has shown up, and I'm even less aware when I hear a few gunshots go off. "Hank was right to think you wouldn't amount to anything."

His words are meant to hurt, and they do. My brain recognizes them as the painful jab that the man who raised me didn't believe in me very much, but instead of letting go in agony, I tighten my grip. I lose when he gains some momentum, and the back of my head hits the ground hard with a thud. I force my eyes open, and I refuse to give up.

It won't end like this.

I refuse to take my last breath at the hands of a man who thought nothing of me.

"He's wrong," I knee Landon as hard as I can, my actions happening without thought, and I get lucky. My knee connects with the softer part of his stomach, and the wind is knocked out of him. I use this to my advantage, knocking him onto his back while Amity burns around me.

"This is the last time you ever hurt me. Do you understand? Do you?!"

My fingers tighten as his gaze suddenly softens. There's a moment of understanding beneath them, but it's ripped away when I'm yanked back, and Harrison all but tosses me to the side. My knees hit the bank of snow, and there's a gross crack when I hit my side on something. I try to shove myself back up, refusing to let someone free Landon, but the scene before me is not what I'm expecting.

"Jake, get over here. Make sure she stays back."

Harrison works quickly. He stands over Landon, one boot on his chest and he forces him back down. Landon doesn't get the chance to struggle or fight him off, because Harrison's gun is drawn before I can say his name. Jake moves in front of me, his jacket covered in dirt and snow, and his hair a mess.

"Everly, are you okay? Shit! Shit, Eric is going to kill me!" Jake panics when I press my hand to my head to stop the throbbing, but his panic pales in comparison to mine.

A second later, the gunshot is so loud that it echoes through my bones. The gasp of everyone is immediate, and for a few seconds, the faction falls silent.

It stays that way as I scramble to my feet, and when I look back, everyone is staring at me.

"She could have been killed!"

His roar is exactly what one would expect.

I stand beside Harrison trying to wipe wet snow out of my hair, and the damp strands stick to my skin. I struggle to push them away, and my whimper of defeat is not because my hair doesn't look good, but because I'm shaking.

Less than thirty minutes ago, Harrison shot Landon. After months of being taunted and attacked and treated like I was nothing more than something Landon could own, it was over. Harrison stepped up, as either my father or as part of his sworn duty to protect the factions, and single handedly made sure I was safe.

It set off the factionless.

Some were alive; they attacked without any hesitation, even if they didn't have the command to.

Some panicked; there was a wave of gunfire that went nowhere, except for a few lucky ones who'd taken Four's training seriously. They were a few who threw the guns, immediately surrendering because they knew if Harrison was here, the rest of Dauntless wasn't far behind.

Jake's words weren't a complete lie.

They showed up right as I attacked Landon. In my own moment of rage, I'd failed to notice them arrive. Had I turned, even for a second, I would have noticed Jeremy running full force past the Dome, or Tori, sprinting easily through the crowd as she yelled for everyone to get back. I would have noticed Max, shoving some of the elderly members back and away so he could get to Johanna, and the fact that she was most definitely trying to flee.

Later, had I looked around once Harrison was done making sure Landon would never hurt anyone else, I would have seen Eric, arriving like the gates of hell had been unleashed. He had forced his way through the crowd with wild abandon, tearing members aside until he got to Harrison. His stare found me standing with Harrison, my fingers digging into his arm as he asked if I was alright and promising me it would be okay.

It was, for a second.

Four announced Landon was dead, and the rest of the factionless army was gone. Some had been shot, some had fled into the woods, and some had given up without a fight. A few of the Dauntless soldiers had been hit, but they focused on rounding up whoever they could, and there was no doubt they'd have their answer of where Evelyn was.

Now, I stand with the others –Johanna, Jake, Four, looking distinctly unwell, along with Max and Harrison –and Eric is having none of it.

"Not a single one of you thought to have her get out of the way? No one saw them showing up? Not a single person in the control room? Not a single person in Amity? No one managed to tell me Johanna was willing to turn the faction over to the factionless?"

His voice reaches a level I haven't heard before. He's so mad that he's practically daring someone to look directly at him, and no one does. Harrison sticks by me, occasionally pressing on my elbow and muttering that I should have someone make sure I didn't break anything, and Max stays by Johanna. I notice she's afraid to move, and she should be.

I couldn't begin to untangle her logic, nor her ability to believe so whole heartedly in a woman who wanted to destroy the factions.

"I should be asking you these same questions. What the hell were you doing? Why did no one in the control room see this? Where is Kacie?" Harrison barks back, and his hand leaves my arm. "What were you doing that was so important that you missed an entire army showing up?"

Their anger is evenly matched, but for different reasons: Eric's grey eyes flash when he looks at me, and I see everything in him crumble, including the future he'd dare to let himself imagine. Harrison's fury ebbs and flows, as our recent revelation as to how we are related highlights the agony of watching me try to stop an army by myself.

It seems this little fiasco had gone mostly unnoticed by Dauntless, until someone realized what was really going on.

"I was talking to her," Eric looks at me again, and his jaw is tight enough it looks like it could break in half. "I was talking to Everly and I heard her ask if anyone was seeing this and I took off. By the time I got close to Amity, I heard Kacie had called the squads this way."

"That's fine, but they would have killed her had she not attacked Landon. The only reason their ramshackle army didn't kill her immediately was Four here told them not to and some happened to listen." Harrison gestures over to Four, standing silently by Max, and he looks at me. "You all got lucky today. All of you."

"It wasn't the whole army. They held off because some didn't want to attack Amity. They didn't think it was right of Evelyn to ask," Four announces, and it's a mistake.

Eric is immediately in his face, and it takes Harrison pulling him back to stop him from smashing his head into the wall. This struggle is quick, because Harrison has no patience for it. He rips Eric away, but he can't stop Eric from going right back to Four.

"Where is she?!"

"Abnegation," Four spits out, and he shoves Eric back. Their anger with each other is on full display, and Eric wrenches himself away from Harrison, again, to attack. "Fuck, I just told you! She left an hour ago. She told the army to attack then regroup there."

"You're dead."

"Eric, for fuck's sake knock it off," Max swears, and to his credit, Eric does.

He relents, but not before staring Four down. "This isn't over, number boy. Not by a long shot."

"Enough," Max leaves Johanna's side and he steps between Eric and Four. "What happened today cannot happen again," he pauses, and his brown eyes flash at me. "The other factions will get word of this, and it doesn't look great on our end. None of it, including Everly attacking Landon. While we know the reasoning behind the attack, today a member of Amity tried to kill one of the factionless. I think we all know what this means."

Tori looks at me, and her expression is confused, then her lips part in surprise. "You're pinning this on her? We failed to track their army and you're blaming the one person who stood up to them?"

Max shakes his head. "We aren't pinning anything on her, but we have to show that we're taking this seriously."

To the side, Eric tilts his head. I can see his mind whirling, and his lips part when he finds my horrified stare.

"You're saying this is my fault?" I stare back, and the panic is white hot. "He tried to kill me! He tried to kill my entire faction. You can't be serious right now!"

"Everly," Harrison starts, but he's interrupted by Eric.

"You went after Landon first, didn't you?" Eric looks at me like he's never seen me before, and I nod. His eyes are dark, and he takes a slow step toward me.

"I tried to stop him. I told him not to attack. I knew he would, no matter what, but I tried and…" I trail off, and suddenly, everything hurts. My shoulders, my side, my head, the gash on my arm, my wet hair, my stomach, even my leg. I look up at Eric, tall and imposing and looming over me, and I fight the urge to cry. "I wasn't going to let him hurt me. Not again."

"We know you wanted to help," Max continues, and he makes sure Eric is looking at him. "It could be construed that her actions caused the factionless to attack. Had she stood back, they might have called this off."

"Unlikely, but unfortunately, I have no choice in this matter," Eric gestures for Harrison to come stand by him, and in the background, Four sighs.

He stares at me from the side of Eric. Four shakes his head when Eric smiles, then presses on his temple in extreme annoyance as he figures out Eric's plan before I do.

"Everly."

My stomach turns over so violently I think I might throw up on Eric's perfectly laced boots.

"On the grounds of attacking a member of the factionless and impeding an investigation headed by the Dauntless faction, I have no choice but to arrest you," he pauses, and for just a second, he looks absolutely delighted. "I'm gonna need you to come with me."

"Are you okay?"

This time, his hands are freezing.

They skate over my cheeks to cup my face, and I screw my eyes shut as I nod. I'm still struggling not to cry, and I lose the battle when he closes the distance between us. My vision burns with the stress of the past few hours, and then some.

"I'm sorry, I had to say it to make it official. No one thinks this is your fault. As soon as we're in Dauntless, I'll have Arlene check you out and make sure you're alright." His words are low and warm, and they are spoken evenly. "Max doesn't blame you. He's impressed that you even tried to stop them."

My nod is miserable at best, but it's not him.

It's the aftermath of what just happened, and the thought of Landon actually succeeding in taking down Amity.

I had never experienced anything like what happened today. I'd dealt with Landon on my own, but he'd always just been Landon. The man today had an entire army with him, a sprawling mass of members willing to hurt to get what they wanted. In theory, he could have won. Had I not punched him, had I not bought a few precious minutes for Dauntless to show up, Landon could have taken down the Amity faction.

The thought is sobering.

Eric realizes my struggle immediately. When my stare slips away, he crushes me against him the same way he did at the Leadership Dinner. He's solid as I collapse against him, and he lets me stay there, holding me in place.

Since the minute he said the words, it was clear my arrest was less of an arrest and more of a way for him to take me home with him. Everyone knew it. I wasn't handcuffed like Johanna, and I wasn't marched out like Four. I caught a brief glimpse of Jeremy and Tori questioning Jake and Andy, and Jeremy stared as Eric took my hand in his and led me to the truck.

Max saluted a goodbye, walking out with Harrison and Johanna and demanding answers from her, and Eric and I walked out to the trucks.

He didn't have me get inside right away.

He gave me a quick once over, and very softly pointed out I'd done nothing wrong. My lack of answer coaxed his hands to my face, and now, my cheek is pressed against his jacket while he slowly pulls me closer and closer. My breathing comes in gasping, uneven waves and I can't stop it.

My mind repeats everything that just happened on a loop. I see myself as I tried to stop Landon, and the small scale war that resulted when Amity stood up for themselves. Because of my actions, I was appointed as the one responsible, and I'd nearly passed out when Max announced I was to blame.

It couldn't be further from the truth.

Eric's fingers slide into my hair, coaxing me closer while checking for a bump. I wince when he touches a sore spot, and his swear is apologetic.

"I'll tell Arlene you hit your head," he mutters, and I raise my head away from his chest to look up at him. His stare had been smugly pleased while we walked to the truck, but when I stare at him, he realizes I'm not handling this quite as gracefully as he is. "I promise nothing is going to happen. You know you aren't really being arrested, right?"

I can't even answer him.

Everything feels shaky, even the ground beneath my feet.

"My dad…"

"He's fine. He's with Daniel. Harrison brought your mother back today, which is why he was here, and your brothers and sisters are going home. They think your dad will be back by Friday. It's unlikely the factionless will try to attack again." His words are soothingly low, and he moves one hand to brush my hair out of my eyes. "Are you alright?"

"I want to go home," I blurt out, and he frowns when I look away.

I have to.

I'm losing my fight not to cry, and it worsens when Four shows up. He stays off to the side, observing Eric with a less than enthusiastic stare, and we both turn to look at him when he clears his throat.

His tan shirt is streaked with a spray of blood, and I wonder if it's his own. He waits until he knows he can speak, and when he does, it's heavy with remorse.

"Everly, I'm so sorry. I didn't think this would happen. I didn't think…I tried to stop them from going into Amity but they wouldn't listen. Landon kept goading them on, insisting this needed to happen."

"Fuck off, Four. You trained them to attack. What did you think was going to happen?" Eric's words are cold and clipped, but Four deserves them. "Are you happy? Is this what you wanted?"

"No," Four answers sharply. "It's not. I'm going back out to see if I can find anyone else. Jeremy is going with me. Max wants to make sure Everly is alright. They've already let Arlene know you're bringing her back. I just…wanted to tell her I'm sorry. I feel like this is my fault."

Eric doesn't answer.

I don't answer, either.

I find myself leaning forward, and my cheek touches Eric's jacket. It smells like him, and the rough fabric is oddly comforting.

"It is your fault. Get the fuck out of my sight before I kill you right here. No one will care," Eric hisses, and his words are dark.

But they must hold some truth to Four, because he listens.

He nods, taking one more glance in our direction, then he immediately turns to head away from us. I watch him as Eric's fingers move up higher, and he doesn't let go. His touch is soothing, but it doesn't help the cold ache spreading through my bones.

"Come on," he mutters, and I lift my head just a fraction of an inch. "I'll take you home."

I close my eyes so I don't cry, and I wordlessly follow his lead.

"How tall are you?"

Arlene is beyond intense.

She hovers over me, a shock of black scrubs and spiky hair, and her glasses are black, too. The frames make her eyes even larger, and they magnify each blink of her inspection.

"Um, I don't know," I answer honestly, and my throat feels scratchy. "Five something."

"I see." Arlene pauses, her pen poised above an ancient manilla folder, opened to reveal a chart. I had no clue what she was doing. It looked similar to the ones my mother filled out, but it had my name on it already, and a long list of things to check off. "How old are you?"

"She's eighteen. You have all this information. Just check her head so we can get going." From the small visitor's chair he'd managed to cram himself into, Eric glares dismissively. We'd been escorted back here a few minutes ago, and he'd sat down and immediately started working on his phone. He tapped furiously without missing a beat, even as Arlene came in. "She hit her head. Harrison said she hit her side, maybe her knee. Do whatever you need to do because it's getting late."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you two have somewhere to be?" Arlene turns to glare at him, and she puts one hand on her hip. "Is this appointment cutting into your schedule? Shall I hurry up for your sake?"

"Yes. We already missed dinner," Eric answers without looking up, and when he does, his eyes find mine. "I'll have to order something and have Quinten bring it upstairs."

She holds her glare once he returns to his phone, and he ignores her exhale of exasperation. "Wonderful. Is anything bothering you right now? How's your head? Where does it hurt?"

"It's alright. I hit the back of it," I answer honestly, and I have to admit, I'm a little terrified of her.

Or maybe just what was going on.

The whole situation had been a whirlwind.

Once Eric made sure I was in the truck, he slammed the door shut and practically sauntered over to the driver's side. He gave Amity one final scowl of disapproval, and I watched the faction slowly come together to try and recoup. They looked to May as she quickly took inventory of who was injured, and she quickly sent people in all directions. I caught a glimpse of Forrest, his eyes as round as saucers as he sprinted through the crowd to find someone. I saw Wesley and Leif, safe and unharmed, doing their best to help May. I saw others, Jerry and Mable working to help a few members up and encouraging everyone to go home.

I saw my mother, a faint ghost of herself standing on the very edge, gently nodding as someone showed her their bloody arm.

The violence that unfolded was wrong. It cut deeply, my home faction torn apart by a woman who thought she knew better, until I could barely see.

Leaving felt wrong, but ultimately right.

I blinked away a blur of wet grief when Eric started the truck, and he gave me the space I needed. He didn't tell me to come any closer, or demand I sit by him. I was the one who scooted over, sliding against his side and caving in when he threw his arm around the back of the seat. He was safe; amid the chaos and despair and the vile villains who hid in our woods, Eric was the only thing keeping me together.

I sunk into the darkness of his uniform, closed my eyes, and didn't open them until we arrived at Dauntless. He parked unceremoniously in a large docking bay, then instructed me to wait. I sat there until he yelled at someone, reached for me, and roughly pulled me down.

There was a gasp in the distance, echoing as my feet hit the ground. I stood there staring up at Eric, and my mind felt blank. I vaguely realized that I'd failed to process any one of Landon's attempts on my life, and unfortunately, they were all hitting me now. I couldn't move and couldn't speak. I could only stare at Eric and silently hope he understood.

He did.

Eric's hands stayed on my waist, until he let go to grasp my hand. I saw Jason and Rylan were standing a few feet away, unmoving as Eric snapped at them to make sure the squads had Amity as their top priority, followed by a dark demand to make sure Harrison was still with my mother.

From there, my walk through Dauntless was quick, but telling. With each step, the faction revealed a little more of itself, as though Dauntless itself were trying to prove this was where I belonged. It was the opposite of Amity in every way.

Dark, cavernous hallways.

Slick marbled walls.

Dozens of steps and stairs.

Rail-less bridges that offered the chance to tempt fate.

A gushing waterfall, spilling icy waters as we passed by.

Dark ceilings so high I couldn't see them, low ceilings with jagged stalactites.

Sections which had been carved away to reveal an inky darkness, offering a place to hide, or maybe a place to get lost. A floor of neon: lights and signs advertising all kinds of things, and a few offering up warnings. A floor of vast, empty space, with the remaining pale rays filtering in. A hallway that led to music, a dark thumping sound mixed with the laughing and shrieking of whoever was over there.

With each step, Eric's world blossomed before me.

It suited him. It was dark and edgy, anonymous with each nameless member who slunk by and recognizable as a few glanced in our direction. It was large. Vast. Intimidating, especially when we arrived at the large doors with a sign that read Infirmary, and he all but shoved me through them.

Now, he sits here, glaring at Arlene while she marks off a few things on her paperwork.

"Are you dizzy? Nauseous?"

She doesn't look at me while she writes, but she does look up when I shake my head, only to wince at the wave of pain.

"Are you up to date on all your inoculations?"

"What's that?" I stare up at her spiky hair, wondering how she made it look like that. She stares back at me, and I can feel her examining my dress intently. It's not as pretty as it once was. The skirt is dirty with snow and dirt and mud, and the sleeves are pushed up to different lengths. I'm not cold, but sort of out of it, especially when she asks if I received all my shots in Amity. "We don't have those there."

"None?" She tilts her head. "Do you take anything? Vitamins? Supplements? Birth control?"

"No," I try not to look at Eric, because I can feel my cheeks turn red.

My medical history isn't some embarrassing secret, but I suddenly feel exposed, and sort of wild. I wonder if he thought I should have been taking something, or if I'd chosen not to.

"My mom made me tea. She said I should be taking that," I offer, and I hope it's enough to stop Arlene's concerned grimace. "I've had it a few times. It's not…great."

"A tea," Arlene repeats, and she glances back at Eric. "You're taking a tea that's not great and Eric has been going to see you. Wonderful." She pauses, and her next words are stern. "Coulter, out of the room."

"I'll wait," Eric throws back, but he's staring at me intently. His brown bone is more pronounced as he cocks his head, like he's deep in thought, and he juts his chin out. I'm sure he's imagining every single time we've slept together. Which isn't many, but not once had he brought up the fact that I could wind up pregnant.

A baby would be a horrible idea.

Especially right now.

Arlene seems to agree.

"Eric, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you to get out. Now."

He blinks. Eric stands up slowly and throws her an unfriendly smile, and his gaze flicks over me lazily. He watches me while he walks out, and I sort of smile, because it's funny to see him take orders from someone else.

In front of me, Arlene rubs at her forehead in pure exasperation. "Please tell me it's consensual."

"What?" My stare jerks back to her, and I'm horrified. "You think he's…he's…"

"He's very persuasive," Arlene answers, pausing to scrawl a slew of words on my chart. I try to read them, but her handwriting is a mess. "I know Eric better than anyone in this faction. I caught wind of him going to Amity, and I heard a delightful rumor that he liked one of their members in particular. The idea of him is surely promising, but I'd like to make sure you aren't being pressured into sleeping with him. He has a lot of power here. More than he knows what to do with. I know he brought you here, but I want to make sure this is what you want."

She stops, and we lock eyes.

She doesn't look mad or upset, only concerned. It's harsh, but in the moment, I know she means well.

"He never asked you if you were on any form of birth control, did he? I'm assuming he also didn't show up with anything to prevent you from getting pregnant?"

"No, he didn't. I could have told him, but I didn't think about it," I answer defensively, not wanting Eric to take the blame for any of this. I had willingly slept with him, and the outcome would be just as much my responsibility as his. Though I would have to look into something so I didn't end up in Dauntless, alone, with a newborn. "It's consensual. Can I go now? I don't need any shots. I don't want you to inject me with anything. I'll have the tea sent here," I announce, and I move to slide down off the table.

What I'd like to do, is run out of here. I want to find Eric and bolt. I have no idea what he's planned, or where he's taking me, but the assumption is we're going to his apartment and I can at least wash my hair.

"I think my head will be okay. It doesn't even hurt anymore. I'm good. If it does hurt, I can come back."

I try to bargain with Arlene like I would my mother. It's a little weird to have someone else examine me, and I hate that Arlene has her shit together. It's obvious she runs this place, but it's so unlike the clinic in Amity that it feels much sharper.

"You are aware that he wants you to stay with him? You can have whatever you'd like sent from Amity, but ultimately, Eric's goal is for you to live with him." Arlene watches, stopping only to X out an entire section. "This isn't just for the weekend. He's requested all your records be sent here, including your medical history. He never asked for you to be brought up to date on anything but the vaccines we offer here."

"I don't want them. They injected my father with something and look what it did to him. It erased his memory!" I protest, and she shakes her head.

"I heard about that. But this isn't a serum. These are for your safety. Once you get them, you're protected against all kinds of things, including hack serums. I can space them out if you'd like." Her own answer is defensive, years of science behind whatever she's offering. "He wants to make sure you're alright. That's all. I've never once seen him care about anyone, so I'd suggest you at least get the first few."

I stare back at her, and we are both silent.

"I'll have a nurse come in to get you started. If you promise me you're alright, I'll send you home after," Arlene carefully offers, and I give in. "If you find yourself needing anything else, or someone to listen, don't hesitate to come back down here. I would also suggest a low dose of the birth control. I'm sure the idea of a child with him is romantic, but…let's see how this plays out. At least… have the conversation with him. If he'll talk to you about it."

"Okay," I nod, and I have zero intention of letting her stab me with anything. She closes the file, and pleased with my response, informs me she'll be back with someone in a few minutes. The door closes behind her, and I count to thirty.

Then I hop down off the table and slip out of the room as quickly as I can.

I find Eric outside the infirmary.

He's pacing back and forth, snarling at someone on the phone, but he stops when he spies me half sprinting toward him. He hangs up on them without saying goodbye, and he looks at me curiously when I practically crash into him, having underestimated how far away he was and how fast I needed to run to get away from Arlene and her infirmary. I'd caught a few stares while tearing through it, but no one stopped me.

"How did it go?" Eric asks suspiciously, and he grasps onto my arms as I regain my balance.

I curse the long skirt of the dress, and I try to steady myself. I glance back once, pretty sure I'll see an entire staff coming for me, but there's no one except the receptionist, casually chatting on the phone.

"Everly?" Eric presses, and I'm half tempted to say something, like Four was hiding in the corner so I had to leave, just so he won't go back in there and make me get the shots.

"Great," I smile up at him. "It went so great she said I never have to come back."

"Oh, did she?" Eric raises an eyebrow at me, and his tone tells me he thinks otherwise. "Anything else I need to know? Any further instructions or appointments?"

"Nope," I avert my stare, and I focus on the rocks behind him. "Um, she just said I should go and rest. And I'll feel better in the morning. Oh, and to call if I need anything else. Which I won't. Ever."

"I see," Eric smiles brightly, and his fingers tighten on my arm. "Then I guess we should get you upstairs and in bed."

He doesn't let go, nor does he make any move to drag me back to Arlene. His grip slides back so he can pull me closer, and I let him.

For a second.

I'm the one to pull away, because my head does hurt, and I have the undeniable urge to get this dress off me, and shove it somewhere I'll never find it again.

This time, I shower quickly.

I wash my hair as fast as I can, squeezing globs of dramatically dark shampoo into my palm then frantically working it through my hair. I rinse it under burning water, then dump enough conditioner for six of me into my fingers and attempt to detangle the mess the fight had caused.

Outside his bathroom door, I can hear Eric murmuring something. He's talking to someone on the phone. I can't make out what he's saying, but I catch a few words like, impossible, paperwork, and Evelyn. I use Eric's body wash as he moves away so I can't hear him, but that's fine. I drown in the sound of the water, the thick humid air, and the strange sensation of being safe.

Just like the last time I was here, there is a relief at being tucked away from the faction. It's unlikely anyone would find me here, let alone come looking. I think of this as I rinse off, washing my face with whatever he has in here, and watching the stress slip right down the drain.

The panicked feeling from earlier is gradually fading away.

The soreness in my limbs isn't gone, but slowly growing stronger, though I find it tolerable. It's a fresh reminder that I've stood up for myself, and so is the warm ache in my head. I blink both of these complaints away, along with a shock of water, and I slowly reach to turn the shower off.

Eric and I had walked up here quietly.

I had no clue how to get to his apartment, but the floor looked familiar, and so were the apartment numbers. The hallway was silent. Eric led me to the same door I'd walked through in an elegant dress, and while he didn't take my dress off this time, he did tell me he would have some stuff brought up for me.

I assumed he meant dinner, but I hear him greet someone as I step out of the shower. I catch my name, spoken lowly, followed by a muffled shriek.

I almost shriek, too. I make the mistake of catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and the aftermath of my fight with Landon is a little more intense than the last few times. The bruise on my side is large and dark, slowly spreading over my ribs and creeping onto my stomach. There are scratches, raw and irritated by the hot water, and a gash on my leg that I don't remember getting. Nothing that requires urgent medical treatment, but combined with my wet hair and pale appearance, I look worse for the wear.

"Thanks a lot, Landon."

I mutter this loudly, and I grab one of the large black towels on the rack.

I grab another towel to attempt to dry my hair, and I fumble in the cabinet for a brush. I yank it through my hair violently, with more force than I normally would, then I stop, and realize I'm being hard on myself for no reason.

I'd fought off a man who wanted to own me. I'd held my own, the best I could, and the few bruises I had would fade. But the strength I'd found to stand up for myself wouldn't fade, and this is something to be proud of. So, I use Eric's brush to detangle my hair slowly, giving myself the time and distraction I need, and when I'm done, I wander out into his bedroom.

Eric is there.

Patiently waiting on the edge of his bed with his phone next to him.

He eyes me up and down, his stare mixed between concerned and utterly thrilled that I am here, and he forces himself to smile.

"Christina brought you clothes to wear." He pauses when I smile, and he shakes his head. "Unfortunately, she's still here. She and Rylan offered to bring up dinner. She's dying to make sure you're alright. You can willingly refuse at any time." He extends his hand out to me, and his stare lands on my neck. "I can send them away if you want."

"No, they can stay. We can eat with them," I take hold of his hand, warm fingers curling into a cold palm, and I stare back at him. His reluctance for her to stay is amusing, especially since she'd brought me something to wear. "Did you tell her I'm staying here?"

"I told Rylan," Eric answers, and he tugs me closer. "She just happened to be near him when I said it."

His dislike of her isn't totally real, and the look on his face makes me smile even harder.

"You look much happier than you did an hour ago," he observes, and the fragile ground on which he's brought me here feels more solid. "Did Arlene say something to you?"

"Oh, she said a lot," I raise my eyebrow at him, and the sense of normalcy smacks me in the face. I don't know him any more than what I'd learned in our times together, but it feels like I've been here forever. Like this isn't the first time I've stood in this very spot, discussing something that happened in Dauntless, instead of being here as a guest.

For a second, there's a wave of déjà vu, then it's gone when he raises his eyebrows back at me.

"I should tell you…I'm not…I don't have any birth control. I didn't get any of the shots. I panicked because…I thought of my dad. I know Arlene isn't going to erase my mind, but…I just couldn't do it," I explain carefully, and I fully expect him to lose his mind.

He might have secretly wanted a wife, but a family was another story.

"I don't want a baby. I don't want to be stuck here, forcing you to take care of us. Everyone assumes I can't make it on my own, and I'm not about to prove them right. I don't really know what to do, but I left before she came back."

I exhale these words in a rush.

Eric takes this in, and his eyes don't leave mine.

"The orders to have you vaccinated were from me. All soldiers are required to have them. You aren't a soldier here, but it would be safer for you if you did. Though I understand not wanting them after what happened to your father," Eric looks thoughtful, like he's deliberately selecting his words. "As far as you not wanting a child, I suggest you go back to Arlene then and get the shot. If it's not…too late."

I nod, but my whole face feels like it's on fire. I wasn't embarrassed to have sex with him or embarrassed that I'd enjoyed myself and Eric had really enjoyed himself. More so that he doesn't look upset about the prospect at all, and he looks sort of hopeful.

It's an unusual look. He rarely looked like this, but I can feel the pulsing want at a shot of normalcy radiating from him.

"I'm…I'm not saying never," I avert my stare for a second, and I wonder how I went from telling him I accepted a proposal he didn't make, to suggesting at some point in time, we'd have a child together. "I'm just…."

"You should live here for a while. I didn't take you from Amity just to have you trapped in an apartment with an infant. Besides," Eric stops, and his smile changes to a flat-out smirk. "I'm pretty sure Christina can only handle a wedding or a baby. Not both."

She must be listening.

There is a crash from the living room, followed by Rylan yelling and Christina yelling back, and they both swear as the thud is loud.

"You knew she was listening, didn't you?"

"I wouldn't expect anything less," he mutters, and he yanks me closer. His fingers move to my side, and he stills when I wince as he hits a sore spot. "Get dressed. I'll check out whatever hurts later. I thought we could eat dinner and go to bed."

There is nothing in his words except warm, rich approval.

Not so much at me being hurt or me needing him to look at my side, but at me being here, as a part of his life.

"That sounds good to me." I agree immediately, but he doesn't kiss me.

He holds me closer, fingers moving to skim along my spine and pull me against him, and he stays still.

In a turn of events, his head stays below my collarbone, pressed there until something else thuds, and his scowl of _fuck_ is the last thing he says before he lets go and heads out of his bedroom.

"You did it. You crazy son of a bitch, you really did it."

Rylan stares with such an intensity that I'm surprised it doesn't hurt his eyes. "You stole Everly."

"I _arrested_ her," Eric smugly corrects him, and he glances over at me. "She started a fight with the factionless. There was no way I could leave her there to attack someone else."

I laugh as I try to take a bite of the Chinese food Rylan and Christina had ordered for us. Across from me, Christina snickers over her own plate, carefully balanced on her knees and elbows Rylan. They both grin widely, and every so often, she glances around like she's never been in Eric's apartment before. Her eyes narrow at the bookshelf, but it doesn't last long.

Eric doesn't have a dining room table, so we were forced to eat in the living room. He looked incredibly hesitant when he realized this, but there was no better option. He helped Rylan plate the food, then reluctantly led us all to his pristine couch.

"Uh huh. Everly is clearly the threat we were warned about," Christina rolls her eyes, but she's so thrilled I'm here that she hasn't stopped smiling since I walked out. "It's really good to have you here. We've all been waiting for you to show up. We had bets going on when it would happen."

"You did?"

"Are you fucking serious?"

Eric and I answer at the same time. We both freeze, our forks halfway off the plate, and Rylan is so happy he can barely function.

"I guessed another week. Jason gave you two weeks. Tori gave you one day, so she's the real winner but she's not here," Rylan informs us, and he balances his plate on one knee, ignoring Eric's violent glare. "Max gave you till January. But his guess was you'd just steal her in the middle of the night. This is legit legit. There's no going back now."

I turn to look at Eric, and he looks murderous as ever.

"How would I steal her? You really thought I'd just walk into Amity and take her? And not a single person would notice?"

"We just assumed you wouldn't care if anyone noticed," Christina snorts. "You kept going back there. Even the guards expected to see her. One asked Jason if they should make some sort of welcome home banner for the day she did show up."

"I hope you're joking," Eric answers darkly, and he chews his next bite angrily. "The guards have better things to do."

"I don't think there's anything better than Everly finally being in her rightful faction," Rylan disagrees triumphantly, and you'd think I told him I was moving here just to hang out with him. "No more weird clothes. No more…strange houses looking like they're hosting an entire family of demons. No more Eric, sulking all night long because his one true love lives miles away."

Eric shuts his eyes, like he's regretting every life decision he's ever made.

"What if she has to go back?" Christina bursts his bubble with this question, and everyone, including me, turns to look at her. "I just mean…I heard Dauntless will be overseeing Amity for a while. What if they want her back?"

"They can't have her back," Eric answers sharply. "They had their chance. Not a single person gave a shit about her there. She's staying here, with me. If Everly decides she wants to leave, then…that's her choice."

He finishes his rant with a snarl, and he doesn't look at me. He bounces his knee for a second, the plate threatening to spill over, and he eyes his food like he'd stab it if he could.

"Everly, you can't leave! You just got here!" Rylan insists, and he looks panicked. He keeps looking at Christina in horror, and he shakes his head so hard his hair falls out of the bun he's wrapped it up in. "Ever. I already made an announcement flier for the party saying that Mr. and Mrs. Eric Coulter are going to be there. You guys have good seats, too. I'm also, by the way, just in case you two are as careless and carefree as I think you are, an excellent Godfather. For your future child."

"Rylan," Eric sighs, but he's not mad. "Can you-"

"Control himself? No, he cannot," Christina laughs. "But you guys do have good seats. We told Meghan she couldn't get drunk before. She can get drunk at the party, but she can't show up drunk."

"Does she drink a lot?" I take a slow bite of my dinner, and it's surprisingly good. Eric had seemed very hesitant at letting Rylan choose, but I like what he picked out. "Or…what is she drinking?"

"She'll drink anything," Rylan laughs. "She and her friends were at Clyde's the other night. She got wasted the other day off their Death in the Afternoon drink. Jason had to come back and pay because she fell out of the booth. She's fun, but she doesn't know how to control herself very well. She just says whatever she's thinking. Just wait till you meet her."

"Oh, imagine that. Someone just blurting out whatever thought they've come up with." Eric rolls his eyes, and Rylan flashes him a blinding smile.

"Do you like to drink? Does everyone in Amity get wasted? I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to get as high as someone in Amity and as drunk. It seems like none of you should be able to walk. I think it seems like a good time."

Next to me, Eric snorts. "You just proved my point."

"Everyone in Amity can walk," I laugh, and I scoot closer to Eric without realizing it. "It's not forbidden to drink there. They drink during the parties or bonfires, or you can drink at home. No one will stop you. We make all the beers, so they have to try them. But the peace serum doesn't make you high unless you take too much. It just makes you…less likely to disagree."

"Did you take it? Is that how Eric won you over?" Christina ignores Rylan's blazing glare, as well as Eric's. "What? I'm trying to figure this out. You said she really likes him. I'm just wondering why."

If looks could kill, Christina would be dead.

But because she's Rylan's girlfriend, Eric must give her a pass.

"Funny. You can go now."

He waves her away dismissively, but she only pays attention to me. She ignores Eric completely, and Rylan rolls his eyes from beside her.

"Rylan wants to try the peace serum. Harrison said he'd bring him some but then he changed his mind."

"He said I didn't need it," Rylan responds glumly, and he sighs into his noodles before perking up. "I'll ask Everly to get me some. You can get it, right? You can walk back in there? Or have it mailed here? Your brother could bring me some."

"I…uh," I pause, and Eric's gaze is so intense I feel it on my skin. "I haven't actually ever taken it. You don't take it during initiation. But as a member, it's encouraged to keep the peace. Some people don't mind it, but some really like it. It's easy to take too much. You have to take the same dose until you build a tolerance. I think my mom just took whatever amount she felt like."

"You really never tried it?" Rylan waits for me to tell him I'm joking, and he scrunches up his face when I shake my head no. "Damn it. But you'll get it for me?"

"Rylan, she's not getting you peace serum. Just…go there and take it," Eric barks, and I try not to laugh. "Or go ask Jake. I heard he's been asked about it. He was telling everyone it makes you tired."

"It does," I confirm, and it's odd to have people listening like I'm sharing some huge secret. "When you first start taking it, or if you take too much, it can make you drowsy. You wind up sleeping it off."

"Nice, nice. Okay. I like naps," Rylan shrugs, and when Eric stares at him with zero enthusiasm, he snickers. "You could use some peace serum. You're all wound up."

"I have a lot of work to do. You know Max is going to want all the paperwork for what happened, as well as what we're doing this week," he answers slowly, pressing his fork down so hard it hits the plate. "I have to figure out the best plan of action before he decides to come up with his own."

"Any word from Four?" Christina asks. "Rylan told me you guys sent him back in. Don't they know he was helping Dauntless?"

"Oh they know. Eric's hoping they'll take care of him."

Rylan isn't entirely wrong, but next to me, Eric is quiet.

He stares at his dinner for a second, and the room falls silent until he speaks.

"He's with Evelyn now."

I brush my teeth beside him.

The surrealism of being here kicks in, and my whole world shifts to reveal a new one. I'd spent years staring at wooden walls in a large bathroom full of my own things. White towels, pink clothes, flowers that my mother had placed to brighten up the space. The tub was large, the space was private, and had I chosen to stay there, I would have drowned beneath the aesthetic of a life not mine.

Sure, I liked how it all looked, but this feels good in a new way.

Eric's bathroom is large and spacious. It's very clean and minimal, and surprisingly modern given that we are underground. Everything is white or black, and the tile beneath my feet is so pristine it's like no one has set foot on it. The shower is familiar to me, and so is this sink.

Unfamiliar to me is the new toothbrush Eric handed me.

He smirked when I took it, the pink one looking odd against his black one, but I appreciated that he'd even thought about me staying here.

I rinse my mouth while he holds out his hand, and it takes me a second to realize he wants me to put my toothbrush with his.

The ease of such permanence surprises me.

It wasn't that I thought he'd kick me out or would tell me this had been fun, but it was his space. It was the way he accepted this like it was meant to be. Like it had always been this way. Like I belonged here with him, and he had no doubts about this.

He leaves the bathroom before me, mumbling he has to call Jason quick, and I linger behind.

I stare at his bathroom cabinet for a second longer, my toothbrush in the same cup as his, wondering how it is possible that this already feels like home.

It's him.

It hits me while I climb into a sea of dark sheets and a dark comforter. I fall into the spot where I'd slept the last time I stayed the night, and there's a sense of entitlement that only I can be here. It's ironic, given I have no clue who's been here before me, or if anyone has.

From what I've put together, Eric was as private and selective as he was arrogant. There was no trace of human life in his apartment. If you glanced around quickly, you might assume this was some sort of model for what life could be like here. Though bleakly devoid of anything personal, it was presumably nicer than what other members have.

I realize this when he walks back into the room, reaches for the collar of his shirt, and yanks it over his head.

"Are you cold?"

He watches me watch him, and I'm suddenly far more nervous than the night I sat on his lap and he took my dress off.

Then, he'd been another version of Eric. A sleeker, more collected, and somehow more confident Eric, dressed in formal wear rather than his uniform.

This is the real Eric.

He is quiet, careful with his words and his actions, but very, very capable of getting his way. There's more to him than his dark clothes or the way he's walking toward his own bed like he's not sure this is real. There's some concern in his stare, hidden and buried but there, and there's the tiniest flicker of warmth.

He likes this, I realize, as he pulls his own covers back, and his stare finds my shoulder. The nightgown I have on is not white, but black, and it's even slinkier and softer than what I'd purchased in Amity. In my quick perusal of his bedroom, I discovered he'd made space for me to live here. His intent was for me to not return to Amity, not even if ordered.

He'd told me there were a few things for me to wear in the dresser, and my shoes were in his closet.

He wasn't entirely truthful about this; his dresser did have what I was assuming were clothes for me, but it was far more than I was thinking. Everything was richly dark, and it matched his clothing. There were all sorts of shirts, leggings, skirts, and pajamas. I opened the closet slowly to reveal the jarring sight of clothes meant for me, pressed carefully against his own clothes. Dresses of varying shades of black, a few lighter colors, and a few that are pink. My dress from the dinner, right beside his suit. Shoes that are not the combat boots or anything remotely battle ready, but a pair next to his, half the size.

The dizzying display of want is tangible. I could reach out and touch his desire to have someone in his life, and I did. I touched every dress, wondering if he picked them out or if he'd sent Christina, and I touched his clothes, too. Some of the shirts were softer, but almost everything on his side was stiff and heavy.

I shut the doors to go pick out my pajamas, and I almost couldn't choose which ones I wanted.

As the oldest daughter, a lot of my clothes were new, but a lot were sent over from families who outgrew them or were made by my mother. I didn't mind them, and I still didn't, but there was something nice about these being mine, and only mine.

"I'm freezing. Is your bedroom always this cold?"

My answer makes him smirk. His lips curl up quickly, and before he answers, he's right beside me. He wastes no time pretending he doesn't want me next to him, and he doesn't waver at all in pointing out that I'm more on his side of the bed than my own.

The fact that I even have a side is enough to make me grin.

"Yes. The heat doesn't work," he answers slickly, and his hands reach for me. There's no awkward fumbling on his part: he pulls me against him, arranging us so I can have my head near his chest and he can throw his leg over me. I'm reminded of Zander clinging onto a worn-out stuffed cow he'd had for a long time. He slept with it viciously, tiny fingers clutching onto the oversized animal while he slept, and sometimes, he refused to go to bed unless he had it.

Eric is the same way.

He keeps pulling me closer, working inch by inch until there is no space between us. At first, there's a flash of unease –only from him –when my head does find his chest. It's clear he's never really shared his bed like this, and he makes it even more clear when he relaxes.

It only happens when my hand curls into his chest, and I close my eyes.

"I've never actually turned it on. I can have someone come look at it if you want," he mumbles, and shockingly he's half asleep already.

The exhilaration of the day has caught up with him. I can feel it as I sink against him, and he grows heavier around me. His leg presses me close, his hands are in my hair and on my back, and his breathing is even and steady.

His heartbeat is the same.

It beats on, rhythmic and stable.

"It's okay," I answer, and my own voice is tired.

The events of the day spiral out in a neat recap. My mind wants to visit each one, but I refuse to linger on the more traumatic events. I skip ahead to the parts when Eric and I were together, when I ate dinner with him, Rylan, and Christina. When Rylan hugged me goodbye, hastily whispering he'd see me tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, but not the next day because he had to work, until Christina informed him he could just say goodbye.

He refused.

"Goodbyes are too permanent."

He huffed this at her, and me, and Eric, then announced he was leaving, and he'd see us all in the morning.

I smile at this, because Eric hadn't looked annoyed or irritated by his enthusiasm, but sort of relieved.

He'd looked the same way while we brushed our teeth, and when he saw I had on the pajamas from his dresser.

Even now, as he curls his hands in tighter, one finding the nape of my neck and the other my lower back, his final sigh is one of great and ultimate content.


	21. Life in Dauntless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!

"One…two…three."

I sneeze right as the man says three. The camera clicks anyway, and he makes a horrified face.

"Uh, okay that one is not…usable. Or I guess we could use it. Do you want me to redo it?" He looks at Eric, who's standing beside him trying not to laugh. The look on his face is total amusement, and he fails when he snickers at whatever is on the screen.

"Redo it. Send me that one, though."

I scowl at him, and from the sidelines, he smirks right back.

"Okay, try not to sneeze this time. Everyone has to have an ID card with a clear picture, including you. So, look here, smile, and don't move." The man clicks a few buttons, then looks at me like I should thank him.

I glare at both of them, and the man waits patiently for me to smile.

"Um…is your…your wife…gonna smile or what?"

From beside him, Eric smirks even wider.

This morning was off to an interesting start.

To my dismay, I'd awakened alone.

My immediate reaction wasn't panic or grievous horror that I'd left the Amity faction with Eric, but pure and utter betrayal that Eric wasn't in bed with me. I floundered under black sheets, and I threw them off me when I realized the clock beside his bed said it was nearly ten thirty. The last time I'd slept in late was the night I'd gone to Erudite with Eric, and this felt just as glorious.

Until I realized he really wasn't in the bedroom, or the bathroom, and I had no way to get a hold of him.

So I did what anyone would do: I stood in the middle of his bedroom, taking it all in.

I wondered what it would be like to stay here forever. I didn't know if I was worried there was a chance that once Eric's faux investigation was called off, I would be sent back to Amity. Part of me didn't believe he'd let that happen for a second. The way he spoke so disdainfully of my former faction told me he wasn't going to let me get stuck there, but there was the smallest chance someone would eventually point out I'd chosen the Amity faction and technically lived there.

I didn't have time to deliberate it.

I took a shower, brushed my teeth, and rifled through the dresses. The fabrics weren't all flimsy and soft, though most were. But there were a few hidden in there that were more structured, meant to secretly mimic the hard lines of his uniform. I picked one of those, figuring if I was going to commit to being here full force then I would start with what I wore. Next, I grabbed shoes, a pair of black and white shoes with black laces, and I liked how they felt far different from anything else I'd worn.

I brushed my hair. I left it down, knowing Eric would undo it anyway, and I gave myself one quick glance in the mirror. It was a strange sight; my hair was dark, the dress was dark, and I no longer looked like I was from Amity. Well, maybe I still did. I didn't have the same ferocious build that the more aggressive members had, nor did I look like I could fight my way through initiation.

But it was a start.

I smiled, pulled my shoulders back, and headed straight to the kitchen. It was there that I saw Eric, leaning against his counter as he rifled through a handful of papers. He looked up right as I walked in, and he stared for just a moment. He took in everything –the dress, the shoes, the hair not pulled up or back or braided into something complicated that he'd ruin no matter what –and he smiled before he could stop himself.

He then waved me over and told me he had something to show me and it wouldn't take long for us to get there.

Which was how I wound up here, getting an ID photo taken for the card.

It was also how I was mistaken as Eric's wife for the third time.

The first was the woman working reception. The second was the woman who brought Eric a file he asked for. Her hair was so blonde it was almost white, and it was cut sharply to her jaw. She tilted her head while she spoke, slowly and carefully to make sure he listened, and her eyes were piercing.

Eric immediately hissed for her to go get him coordinates of where Four was, or not return.

She ignored him for a moment. She dared to tell him she hadn't met his wife, and he stared her down until she stuck her nose up and walked away.

The third was the guy in charge of the cards for the faction. They had a complicated system which involved getting my picture taken, linking my card to an account, and waiting for it to print and scan. According to Eric, it was outdated. I wasn't in their system, and as someone who was here because I'd been arrested, my name wasn't exactly available as a member of Dauntless to assign a card to.

I was sure there was no way to make this work, but Eric got around this by having it linked to his account.

"She doesn't have to smile if she doesn't want to."

Eric's answer is easy, and he watches me stand there, still unsmiling.

His words evoke the exact reaction the photographer was hoping for.

I do smile.

Brightly.

But only because Eric was making it clear that being here is my choice, and he'll support it however he can.

Especially if it means I'm one step closer to officially being his wife.

"Is he behaving?"

Harrison sits across from me with his coffee in hand. His uniform is rumpled, like it's been on all night, and behind him, the offices of Dauntless are busy.

After getting my official Dauntless card –a heavy black one which unlocked Eric's apartment, allowed me to pay for things from the stores, and would grant me access to some of the places Eric assumed I wanted to go –we walked upstairs. Eric told me he had a briefing with Max and Tori, and I was handed off to Harrison as Eric walked into Max's office.

The transfer was so quick I barely noticed.

Eric announced he'd be right back, and Harrison cheerfully insisted I follow him. Despite looking like he'd barely slept, he led me to a breakroom, and someone dropped off coffee and muffins. The dark cups were immediately recognizable. The same drink Jason had delivered to Amity was brought up to me, and I sat there sipping it, while Harrison gave me a very cursory interrogation about my night with Eric.

It felt oddly appropriate.

Since finding out he was my father, I hadn't had a lot of time to process it. I liked the idea, since the man I thought was my father hadn't exactly liked me, and I liked Harrison. Even after talking to Hank, I was still holding on to the idea that he had liked me a long time ago. Maybe when I was younger. Maybe when I couldn't tell him I didn't want to marry his friend's son, or maybe when I would still subscribe to his way of life. As time went on, it was clear there was some struggle, and it hurt that what he thought was good for me wasn't at all in my best interest.

So Harrison's concern, once again, feels good.

"You tell me," I take another sip of the drink, and I wonder how I've lived this long without this coffee. "Actually, Eric was very nice. He had a bunch of things for me to wear. Even shoes. He made space in his closet."

I say this like it's a secret confession, and it is.

Harrison knows this, too.

He fights off a smile, and shrugs into his coffee. In between us is a box of muffins. The box is black, with a label hinting the muffins are extreme, and a warning on the back to share them. When I lift the lid, I am shocked to see muffins the size of small cakes. They all look intimidating, and almost as fancy as the dress I have on.

"He sent Christina to pick the clothes out. He asked me what size you wore. I told him I didn't know, but I'm sure Rylan could find out."

"Rylan could? How?" I watch him carefully, wondering what it would have been like if I'd grown up with him. He plucks a muffin from the box before he slides it back over to me, and he nods encouragingly. "Eat something. I'm sure Eric will take you to lunch but he'll be stuck with Max for a while."

"Are they good?" I pick one that looks safe: an oversized, dramatic blueberry muffin. The blueberries are from Amity, so dark they look black against the crumble, and I gingerly pull it free from the box. "You have to tell me about Rylan and Jason. I know them only because I met Jason first. Then I met Rylan, but I didn't know his name, so I was calling him Not Jason."

"Ah yes, NJ. I heard about that. Several times. He was absolutely delighted that someone had given him a nickname." Harrison reclines back in his chair, and his jacket is unbuttoned at the top. His hair isn't so much a mess as it is disheveled, and every so often, his phone beeps.

He ignores it completely in favor of talking to me.

"The kid can find out anything. Ask Arlene. He hacks into her accounts all the time. Sometimes he changes her schedule. Sometimes he changes the names of her patients. Sometimes he decides he knows more than the nurses working and changes the diagnosis. It's always a gamble when you go." Harrison sounds amused, though he shakes his head. "Jason, while arguably less trouble, is just as much of a handful. Everything is a conspiracy theory. The cafeteria runs out of mac and cheese? Conspiracy theory about how we're going to run out of food. Someone parked the trucks the wrong way? Conspiracy theory that one of the drivers is actually part reptilian. One of the railings broke? Aliens."

I choke on my coffee.

"Aliens?"

"According to him. If you ask me, or anyone else who took the time to watch the security footage, it was two morons fighting by the chasm." He stops himself before he says anything else, and he shakes his head a few times. "You know what? I'll let you get to know them. They're Eric's friends. They support him almost all the time. Both are good soldiers. They can fight, they can shoot, and they aren't afraid of much."

"I think they seem fun," I break off a piece of the muffin, and I glance around the room.

It's a decent sized room, with tables and chairs, but it's set up sort of like a kitchen. There's a microwave, a refrigerator, a toaster, and a sign demanding everyone clean up after themselves.

"Do you like it here so far? Other than the new wardrobe and Eric's apartment?" Harrison asks slowly, and he toys with his coffee lid. "Do you like the faction?"

"I do. At least I like what I saw. I sort of got to see a little bit when I was here last time, but all I've done today is get an ID photo and card," I answer honestly. "Do you like it here?"

"No," he answers immediately. "I hate it here. But it's not the faction. It's just…I promised myself I'd be elsewhere. When things went askew, I signed up for a few more years. Now that you're here…things are different."

"Would you have gone to Amity?" I stare at him, watching his eyes crinkle with a hint of mischief. "To stay with my mom?"

The hint of mischief dulls immediately, because we both know my father will return home at some point. I immediately feel bad; it's clear Harrison has struggled with not being with my mother, and Amity means more to him than just a faction to watch out for.

There's also the unspoken question of my brothers. Forrest would never leave Amity, but Zander might.

"Yes. Even if I never have my family together again, I won't end my days here. This faction is for the young. It wears on you. I've done my time serving the others, and I fully intend to take some time for myself. When I signed on, I signed an agreement to work so many hours, so many patrols, so many trainings. No one said how long I had to complete them. So I did them early. Now, I have a lot of free time. I was mostly hanging around to keep an eye on Eric and make sure they're on track. Twenty-four years old isn't exactly a seasoned leader. Once Max and I step back, it'll be him in charge. We've worked to make sure the transition to him taking over will be easy. So until I'm confident he won't hand over his loyalty to Erudite or destroy the faction in a fit of rage, I'm here."

He pauses, and I take a slow bite of the muffin. It's good, almost too good to be considered breakfast.

"Eric told me you were struggling. He was hoping you'd just fail your initiation so he could go get you. You'd be the first person to fail out of Amity."

"I know. I told him I couldn't fail on purpose," I reach for the coffee, and I wonder what would have happened if my scores had stayed at zero. Jerry had mentioned someone was messing with them, and my only guess was Landon had done it. "I honestly didn't think you could fail out of Amity. Jerry said my scores were really low but they weren't accurate."

"You really can't. Even if your scores are dismal, they'll let you stay. The fields are too large to limit their members. Unless you commit some heinous crime, they don't say much. Eric was disappointed to learn this," Harrison cracks a grin at this memory. "He got over it, though. He says you'll fit in fine here."

"It's very…different so far," I admit, and I try to think of how Amity could ever compare to Dauntless. The factions are extreme opposites, right down to the very room we are sitting in.

Johanna had a single office, high above the stables, with a lone, ancient computer. I'd caught a glimpse of the Leader's offices here, and they were very different. Lots of doors, each with nameplates mounted on the wall beside them. All kinds of paperwork being passed around, a few receptionists –including one who announced her name was Linda after she blinked at me in shock –and plenty of members going in and out. My guess was some worked as assistants to the leaders, and in a rush of rare, brand new jealousy, I wonder if Eric has one.

"I think that someday, maybe when I'm older, I would like Amity. I just felt like all I was doing was…raising Zander and spending my days hoping whoever decided they wanted to marry me didn't expect fourteen kids." I confess this right out loud, and he smiles.

"Are you telling me I'm getting zero grandkids from you? My only chance is Forrest?"

He's totally kidding.

He's looking at me like he's trying to keep a straight face, and I ruin his joke by asking him my next question.

"Would you have tried to get to know me if I hadn't ended up here?" I ask before I lose my nerve. "I know you said you wished you'd been around, but what if I was still in Amity? Would you keep coming there?"

Harrison is silent. His phone beeps again, then again, and he pushes it away even further. "At some point, I would have told you who I was and tried to see if you wanted to know me. Maybe…maybe when you were older. I wasn't expecting Hank to be injured, and I told your mother I'd stay away and let her help him. It wouldn't be fair for me to insert myself into your life right now. But things just…fell into place and I wanted you to know. I feel like I robbed both of us of our time together."

"It's not your fault," I start, then I stop. "Or is it?"

He snorts in response. "Oh, it's my fault. I fell in love with Eden the first time I saw her. I should have abandoned Dauntless without question. I could have had a life in Amity with her. I kept thinking…one more week. Two more weeks. Just another month. I can give Max another few weeks and then I'll leave. I tried working everything and anything I could. I stopped giving a shit when I couldn't make it work. She married Hank and I thought, what's even the point? Even if I get out of here, I don't have any reason to. I felt like I owed it to Zander to at least get to know him, any way I could. Then I saw you with him, and I knew I couldn't stay quiet."

"Is my…is Hank…is he okay?"

I suddenly can't bring myself to call Hank my father.

It's not that he isn't my father, but I find myself desperate to know my real father. The guilt isn't as insurmountable as one would think; Hank didn't always like me, and I know this. I'm sure he'd done his best, but ultimately, I was a low priority for him.

My only real accomplishment to him, no matter what he said or tried to say, was that I would have married Landon to please his friend and form some weird family alliance.

"Hank isn't doing so great. Your mother is back in Amity but your father isn't. I stayed last night to help her, but I left this morning to make sure Eric's paperwork is in order. A factionless war isn't good by any means, but Kang will want info on it. The less we can involve the other factions, the better. But no, Hank isn't okay. They're hoping for the best but expecting the worst. There's a chance he might never remember anyone."

"Oh," I sink back into the chair, and I feel a wave of guilt that I know isn't mine to take on. "I tried to tell him about Landon. Landon was messing around for a while. I wish he would have listened."

"He's not the most willing to hear what he doesn't want to hear," Harrison mutters, but it's low. "Erudite should be able to help. I'm sure one of their brain surgeons is staying up all night to fix this."

"Is Dauntless really taking over Amity?" I blink away the thought of my mother home alone, because I can't go back. Not right now. "Eric said –"

"Yes. Eric is meeting with Max now to pick whoever he sees fit. The idea isn't to change the faction in any way, but to make it more accessible to our soldiers. We want to hold off on the factionless attacking again, or trying to persuade members to join them. So they'll choose someone to go stay there. We'll rotate our soldiers out there as well. It won't be a bad gig. If you were still in Amity, I think Eric would have elected himself as their temporary leader."

The idea of Eric as the leader of Amity makes me laugh. "I'm sure he'd have loved it. Johanna gets a lot of visitors and guests. Do you guys watch Amity from here? Or…do you?"

"Sometimes," he answers casually, and I eat another bite of the muffin, hoping he'll keep talking. "If their cameras work. I can take you to the control room. It's not much. Members watch the cameras and make sure nothing is happening, but Amity prefers not to have the cameras on or working. It's on us to keep up with them. How on Earth the control room staff missed an entire army forming is beyond me," he rolls his eyes and his mouth turns down. "Are you alright? You were right in the middle of it."

"I'm okay now. I was a little shook up. I wasn't expecting to see Landon again or the army. I didn't expect you to…" I pause, and the next words are strange to say. "kill him."

"He was going to kill you. He proved he wasn't afraid to try, and with his luck, he'd eventually succeed. So I took care of it." Harrison lessens his frown. "I have a lot of leeway when it comes to the factionless army because I understand them. They needed a leader, and they got one. But things aren't good now, now they have too many leaders. Landon and Colton didn't like each other, Four was in the mix, and Evelyn doesn't want anyone upstaging her. She'll self-destruct before she tries again."

"Wait!" I sit up straighter, and he raises his eyebrows at me. "What about Four? Eric said he was with Evelyn last night!"

"He was but he's back now. Eric had him taken out of the control room in addition to the training room and he's been using him as his personal assistant. My guess is he probably got to take a nap since Eric's been busy," Harrison grins like he knows Eric was in his apartment with me. "Four should be happy you're here."

"He said Eric was trying to get him out of here and bring me to Dauntless," I tell him, and he smiles until his phone rings.

This time it's loud.

The sound is shrill, and even though he lets it go to voicemail, it rings again. He picks it up disdainfully, and he answers with an irritated snap not aimed at me. "Sorry, Everly. Someone claims this is important. I'll make it quick."

"It's alright," I busy myself with the muffin, but I listen carefully to him talk.

He's different than Eric when it comes to whoever he is speaking to. He listens with more patience, and he considers what they're saying, though he doesn't look impressed. When he does answer, it's far more authoritative, and less furious that someone's dared to ask for his orders.

"Unfortunately, I can't authorize that. If he claims she's gone back to Abnegation, she's probably gone back into hiding. Her army can't hide there, which means you'll run into them sooner or later. For now, I would go back to Amity and secure your perimeter. Your lead on this is Jason, though. He should be out there now."

I wait while he keeps talking, and he starts to mirror Eric the longer the person keeps asking him questions.

He finally shakes his head with a look of regret, and I smile back.

"I'll just finish this muffin. You can talk to them."

I'm in no real hurry.

He's already told me more than I could have hoped for. He tells me even more when he sighs, and reluctantly agrees to go meet whoever is asking for his help. He stands up and covers the phone with his hand, and his frown is less that he's leaving and more that our time has been cut short.

"I'll be back in a few hours. If Eric isn't giving you a tour of Dauntless, we can meet for dinner. If I'm not back, maybe tomorrow."

"Sure," I agree immediately, and I return to the overload of blueberries and sugar. I wave goodbye as he leaves, and I watch him vanish out the door. He calls out for someone to have a truck ready, and then he's gone.

It's just me and the muffins, and I make the snap decision to bring Eric one.

"Is she staying here forever? Did you make it official?"

Jason watches me stand beside Eric for all of two seconds. I'd walked out of the breakroom with the muffins and right into Eric coming to find me. He was with Jason, who was not in Amity leading any patrol, and they walked me to Eric's office.

Once inside, I stood and stared at everything in complete awe.

The office is large, vast in both darkness and violent awards. There are plaques lining the walls that offer all sorts of lavish praise upon him. In his six years as a leader, he's done a lot. Some of the awards sound good. Some of them sound…interesting, in a way that hints he works for Erudite and his main concern is keeping himself in the know of things. I touched a few while I walked in –one for superior excellence in commanding an army, and the other for being the youngest ranking leader to defeat some villain I wasn't even aware of –and then I return to him.

He sits back in his desk chair, watching me look around.

The rest of his office is what I would imagine. Everything is black, or light black. He has a computer, a laptop, a tablet, stacks of files, papers stapled together, a few books, and absolutely nothing personal. The closest thing in here is a note from Rylan, scrawled in chicken scratch, demanding Eric expand the cafeteria budget to allow for more fine dining options.

Behind him, is a large map. Push pins are stuck in areas of interest. A note is stabbed beside Amity with Harrison's name on it.

A smaller note has my name on it.

I observe all this before Jason can ask anything else, and Eric takes hold of my wrist. His fingers curl around the bone, pulling me closer.

"She is staying. She got her keycard today," he answers quickly, but carefully. Officially, I was here for causing trouble. Unofficially, he was slowly making this permanent.

The card I'd been given had his last name on it.

Neatly printed was Everly Coulter, along with a string of numbers and a rank for security clearance. Eric hadn't said anything about the last name, but I figured it was because Everly Carlen didn't exist here.

"Okay, but…what about once the investigation ends. What about once Harrison finds Evelyn? I just heard Four was with her, and they know where she is, but Harrison denied the patrols to go through there."

"She's in Abnegation," Eric's answer is casual, like Jason asked how the weather is. "Marcus doesn't want us in there. Andrew Prior is backing him for now. Harrison pointed out they're giving her the go ahead to destroy the faction from the inside out. I give it a day before they ask for help."

"Is that dangerous?" I look down at him, his uniform jacket unbuttoned halfway and his hair perfectly parted, and he nods. "Does she know people there?"

"Yeah, Four's whole family," Jason snorts. "His father is one of the leaders there, and the rumor is he's a piece of shit. We could send Four there, but Marcus doesn't want us there because the more we know, the less he can hide. The only good thing that can come out of this is maybe Evelyn will kill him and take over Abnegation. But like they tried in Amity, Abnegation doesn't want to fight a war. Marcus might try to goad them into one, but he'll more than likely fail."

"Oh," I'm not sure what to say, but this feels bigger than me and my opinion. "Where is Four?"

"Who cares?" Eric barks, and he yanks me back to sit with him. I hit his legs, and it takes him all of two seconds to pull me onto his lap. I nearly lose a shoe as he pulls me closer, and shockingly, Jason barely blinks.

"Well…someone might care. Maybe…maybe the guy he gets a beer with every once in a while."

"Well _la di da_ , someone go tell Zeke that Four is with his mommy. I'm sure he can wait to hit up happy hour." Eric's arms snake around my waist, and I have to admit, he's pleasantly solid behind me. "He's going back tonight. He said Evelyn is suspicious of his return and isn't telling him much. Which isn't something I'm interested in hearing."

"Yeah, well…maybe taking Everly out of Amity and killing Landon tipped her off." Jason thinks out loud, then he perks up. "Hey, can Meghan meet Everly? Everyone wants to see her. You can't just keep her in your apartment the whole time."

"I'm not," Eric answers darkly, and I lean back further against him. I like how defiant he sounds, because he's not lying. If he had his way, I bet we'd go home right now. "She's been here for less than twenty four hours. And you ask Everly if she wants to meet Meghan. Maybe she's not ready for that disaster."

"Rude," Jason answers cheerfully, and he pulls out his phone. "Everly, do you want to meet Meghan? We're free at six. Unless Harrison calls me back out there. I told him I was done for the day, but he just messaged me he's leaving to go meet a few of the patrols now. Hopefully, it's quiet."

"Sure? Would we go to Clyde's?" I throw out the name of the one restaurant I know. "For dinner?"

Jason looks up and his eyes are wide. "See? She already knows where we eat. She fits in fine. No one will ever question where she came from."

"Uh huh," Eric is unconvinced. "Alright, fine. We'll meet you at six. Do me a favor and invite Rylan and Christina. See if Paul can hold a table for us."

"I'm on it," Jason heads out with his gaze on his phone. He presses something, and I hear him excitedly inform someone of this new plan.

"I'm excited to meet Meghan," I inform Eric, and I feel him shake his head no. "You don't like her?"

"She's fine," he mumbles, and his head drops forward. He presses it against mine, and his arms pull me back further. "Clyde's is going to be insane tonight. It's Taco Tuesday."

"What's that?" I stare down at his hands, much larger than mine, and he presses his fingers against my own. They stay there, circling through so he can slide them between mine.

"I guess you'll find out."

I do find out.

It becomes very clear that while Eric and I both are on the same unspoken page with a lot of things, he has the upper hand here.

"Um, you should…you should really stop," I gasp this, not at all wanting him to stop, and without much conviction. "We're going to be…. late."

I try a lot of things in this moment.

Reminding him of the time.

Grasping onto his hair and digging my nails into his scalp.

Nearly falling off the bed, which would undoubtedly make me end up back in Arlene's exam room.

"No."

He says this quickly, tearing his mouth away from between my legs to look up at me. I have to admit it's a nice sight, and it feels even better when he shakes his head, and his fingers dig into my leg.

"You took the dress off. I told you we had to leave," he points out, and he resumes biting the inside of my thigh.

Everything in Dauntless was slowly clicking into place.

One Jason was off, Eric and I left his office to go have lunch. It was a quick one, with Rylan and Christina, and they were so enthused to go to Clyde's that you'd have no clue I'd seen them both twice in the last twenty-four hours. I'd stayed with Eric for the rest of the afternoon, watching him fill out some forms, type away on his computer, and snap at people who called him. He had me sign a few things, telling me to read them carefully, but they were nothing more than forms meant to take my statement about the factionless war.

I read his notes while he worked; a brief outline of the attack, an overview of what happened, and a plan to dismantle both Evelyn and her army. My name was on the second page, and it stated my involvement as minimal. It was mentioned Landon had tried to kill me before, and our altercation was personal but unacceptable by the Amity standards. There was a page that would have been paperwork for my arrest, but it was blank. All it had was a giant X through it, and Eric's signature at the bottom.

We went back to Eric's apartment so he could change out of his uniform, and I decided to change out of the dress. I slid it over my head with the intention of finding something a little warmer. Dauntless held a strange, permanent chill. Amity was cold when it was winter, but this was different. It was like the ground was made of ice. Eric's apartment wasn't the only place that didn't appear to have heat. The offices were cold, the hallways were cold, even the elevators were freezing.

Eric took all of this as a sign that dinner could wait, or maybe this was better than dinner for him.

"I was cold! I was going to find something to wear," I try to answer him as best I can, but my brain melts when he moves his mouth closer, and my legs move wider on their own. "I'm not cold now."

He makes a noise of impatience. His tongue is everywhere, licking and sucking as I wiggle against him, begging him not to stop. He grasps my thighs, then my hips, and before I can point out we only have a few minutes, his uniform is completely off.

"They can wait. It'll be crowded. Jason and Meghan are probably already ordering drinks. We have plenty of time," Eric answers lowly, his eyes dark and his smile slow. It's not a full smile, more a crooked smirk as he pulls away, and my whimper of protest doesn't go unnoticed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you said you wanted me to stop."

"I lied," I sit up, reaching to pull him down to me.

He falls easily.

Eric's body is heavy over mine. He pushes me back onto the dark sheets, his smirk unwavering as I help him shove his boxers down. I want him closer, because I'd expected this to take a few days. Eric wanted me here, but he was letting it unfold at my pace. He wasn't rushing anything that I knew of, until I took the dress off.

"Does that hurt?"

For half a second, the moment threatens to burst when his fingers touch my side. My wince is more of an unconscious reaction. The bruise does hurt, but it looks worse than it is. It's also a vividly fresh reminder that a day ago, I stood with another faction, trying to keep the peace at my own expense.

"Yes." I look up at him, and I nod before I can stop myself. His fingers press gently, inducing a different feeling than the waves of eye closing goodness I'd been caught up in moments ago. "It'll stop, right?"

His eyes, still dark and intense, soften as he nods. He holds tension in his jaw; the sight of the bruise making him stiffen, and his fingers splay wide as he covers the mark with his hand.

"I'll get you something for it," he murmurs, and his focus is back on my face. His other hand moves to touch my neck, my collar bone, then my jaw. "Arlene has something to put on it. If you'd stayed for your appointment, she would have given it to you."

He has a point.

I still shake my head no, and his smirk returns.

"You don't want to go visit her, Amity?" Eric moves his hand to my face, and his thumb brushes my lower lip. "She called looking for you."

"We can talk about her later," I change the subject. I slide my hands up to his neck, and I loop my arms around him, effectively knocking him off balance. "Next year. Maybe two years."

"Planning on sticking around, I see." Eric answers coolly, and he knocks my hands away. He kicks the boxers to the floor, but his gaze stays on me. "Good."

He takes my yelp as agreement. Eric is over me before I can answer, and inside me before I can point out that perhaps I should have gone to see Arlene.

I forget about her and her shots completely.

Eric's hips meet mine and the feeling of him over me is almost better than anything. He's heavy and warm, his thighs pressing me further into the bed and his hands skimming my side. He takes hold of my hand to move it where he wants, but he tenses when I touch his cheek with the other.

For someone who was so certain he wanted me there, the affection throws him off. I keep my palm pressed against the sharpness of his cheek bone, and when his eyes find mine, the smugness from before is gone. He's still arrogant, still much stronger and much larger and deeply buried in me, but he's far unlike the Eric who announced he was arresting me.

He's painfully human.

The contrast between him and Landon is once again striking. Both are tall and fit, both outweigh me to the point where I more than likely shouldn't be able to fight them off, and both have the capability of ending my life with their bare hands.

While Landon willingly exercised this ability, Eric does the exact opposite.

The man who I was warned about, who Four claimed would kill me and who my friends thought would bash my head into the wall for his own pleasure, is doing his best not to hurt me. Even as his fingers tighten on my ribcage, and the pace of his hips grows sloppy and frantic, he makes sure I am alright.

I am.

I keep my fingers on his face, sliding them back further to dip into his hair, and our eyes meet.

He doesn't smile, not the same unexpected grin that he couldn't stop or the quick turn of his lips. He doesn't blink or look away, nor does he stop what he's doing.

He looks at me with half hooded eyes, and his lips part open. He drops his head down to touch mine, and I raise my legs up, coaxing him closer.

His reverence for this isn't lost on me, not now, and certainly not when he groans my name and his teeth sink into my neck.

Our dinner plans fall through as not only Jason is called away to Amity, but Rylan, and Eric as well. I sit on Eric's bed, still undressed with sticky thighs and a dull ache from him pulling away from me, and I watch him put his uniform back on.

The happy aftermath of coming beneath him fades away as the realness of his life here slaps me in the face.

Were I back in Amity, I'd be at home, making dinner for myself or my brothers and sisters. My mother might have been back or might not, and at some point, I'd have called Eric and gone to bed.

Here, I sit in his bed with the sheets pooled around me, watching him lace up his boots. His posture is tense, the ease from our time in bed together sucked away, and it's clear he's irritated. He reaches for his jacket, buttoning it up while he looks at me, and I crane my head to stare up at him.

"You really have to go?"

He nods.

His grey eyes look icy in the dimness of his bedroom, and they flash with annoyance when he catches a glimpse of himself in the large mirror.

His hair, normally so perfect and neatly parted, is a disheveled mess.

"It's routine. I'm expected to be there since they've found someone they think has information I need. I'll have dinner sent up for you, and hopefully I'll be back before you fall asleep." His tone is tight, and he rakes his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it.

It sort of works.

"I could go with you," I offer. "I can look after myself. I can fight. You know I can take someone down."

My words make him pause. The dark look he throws me doesn't reach his eyes, but it's a pointed no.

"You'll stay here."

He dismisses me completely. I fight off a dramatic sigh because my offer to accompany him is insane. I'm not an actual member of Dauntless. I'm not a leader here, a volunteer, or even someone who could realistically fight off Evelyn's army.

I also don't have any clothes on, nor do I know where he kicked my dress.

"I'll be back in a few hours. We can go to Clyde's tomorrow." His words are terse as I move to slide off the bed, and I don't get very far. "If you need anything…you can go see Linda. She lives a few doors down. Everyone will be gone except for Tori and Jeremy. Apartment sixteen is Linda's. She never sleeps and she gets up early. If you're feeling brave, Arlene is working all night as well."

"Is that a hint?" I stare up at his torn expression, and I know he'd rather stay here. "I'll be alright. I'll probably just…eat dinner and go to bed."

"I'll be back soon." Eric's fingers find my jaw, carefully prying it upward toward him. He doesn't say anything else. He holds my stare for a long moment, then his lips brush against mine in a quiet goodbye.

He breaks away slowly, lips curling up for just a moment, and he's gone before I can appreciate just how surprisingly gentle he was.

Or the fact that he trusts me to be here, alone, in his apartment.

Quinten is very imposing.

He stares me down without blinking, and he almost doesn't hand me the dinner.

"You're Everly?"

He says my name with flat disbelief. It was a common theme around here, and I was noticing most of Dauntless didn't seem to picture Eric with a significant other. At least the ones I'd met. I idly wonder if he even considered me anything of the sort, because while I'd told him I accepted his non-proposal, it still didn't mean I was anything more than a girl from Amity he'd brought here.

I refused to think that. An entire wardrobe was unlikely for someone he brought here for fun. Shoes in my size were unlikely for someone he wasn't planning on having stick around. A pink toothbrush, next to his darker one, should have told me everything I need to know.

Still, my stomach dropped when I fumbled in the drawer for a shirt, and my fingers found a pack of hair ties.

For one sickening moment, I thought they might be Ashley's.

Though unfair of me to demand there be no presence of anyone before me, the thought of her being here hurt. It seemed like Eric allowed no one in his space, and him going out of his way to create a life for me here had to be rare. Finding out she'd stayed with him would have been devastating, and luckily, that was not the case.

When I flipped the pack of hair ties over, written in thick black marker was Rylan's name, along with a smaller warning not to throw them away because he never has one when he needs them and this is his emergency hair tie pack.

"I am. You're…Quinten?" I'm proud that I remember his name, and I only have a loose association with it. I know he works in the kitchens and seems to be the man everyone orders dinner from. I also learned that he actually runs the kitchens, and his job is much more than just making hamburgers and french fries.

"I am. I'm the one who makes sure the faction eats. I have a staff of over two hundred members," he announces, and I get the feeling he wants me to know he's not just a delivery man. "I know Amity has a large kitchen. It's an immense faction. I went there once."

"It is large, but I think Dauntless might be larger," I have to crane my head up to look at him, and he's somehow taller than Eric. His hair is very short, and his eyes are dark. "I bet it's a lot of work to feed this faction."

"It is." He stares down at me, still inspecting me like he doesn't trust me, and he relaxes only when I smile. "Do you like ice cream?"

"I do, sometimes."

We rarely had ice cream in Amity. It took up too much space in our freezers, and it wasn't widely served. I could think of the few times I had it, and it was always considered a big deal unless you made it at home.

"Good. Eric ordered you dessert. He said to bring everything up and he already paid so I don't need your card." Quinten glowers at me, going back and forth between looking concerned that I was here, and daring me to ask why he wasn't out on some patrol. "I'm from Candor. I took a fine dining course when I was ten. I was one of the youngest to attend. I transferred here with intent to work elsewhere, but…this faction needed direction when it came to cooking. You can only have cereal so many meals a day."

I'm right.

He's almost as intimidating as Eric, with the same unconscious desire to be seen as the person he really is. I decide I like him, and I want him to like me.

I think he does.

He keeps squinting at me, and he makes no move to leave.

"Do you think someday I could see your kitchen? The ones in Amity are nice, but probably not as nice as yours."

"If you want," he throws back casually, but he looks secretly thrilled until his watch beeps. "I gotta go. The shifts switch soon, and I have the second round of dinner ready to go."

"It was nice to meet you," I carefully take the bag from him, and he nods in approval.

"Enjoy your dinner."

He watches me until I shut the door, and I hear him take off down the hallway. I haven't been in the mess hall here, nor do I even know where it is. But my guess was it did take his entire staff to feed the faction, and he'd earned his position to oversee so many employees.

He's not a bad cook, either.

I eat my cheeseburger on Eric's couch, carefully, and I busy myself by picking up the lone book on his coffee table.

"How did he not know he's a wizard?"

The look on Eric's face is one I haven't seen before. It's pure horror, and not just because he came home to find me sitting on the couch, my feet curled beneath me, and my nose stuck in the book. I'd eaten my dinner with the intent of reading a few pages and then heading back into Eric's room to go to bed.

Instead, I found myself glued to the book, reading page after page, completely engrossed in the story. By the time Eric came home, I was a good chunk of the way through it, and I nearly fell off the couch when he startled me by flinging the door open.

I looked up immediately, and he came to a dead halt when he saw the book in my hands.

"Where did you get that?"

"It was on the table," I glance over at his bookshelf, and my eyes skim over the dozens of books there. Almost all have thick, heavy spines, but there are a few which don't. There are others similar to this one, and I immediately wonder if they go together. "I just picked it up and figured I would read it while I ate dinner. But I have a lot of questions now."

"I don't have any of the answers," Eric snaps, and his change in attitude is quick. "I'm gonna go change."

"Are you okay?" I watch him storm off, ripping the jacket from himself with pure annoyance, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out it's more than this book I'm reading.

Or maybe he just really hates wizards.

I set the book down, sticking in a piece of paper to mark my place. I toss everything from dinner back into the bag, and I walk it to his spotless kitchen. I struggle to find any sort of trash can, but I eventually win after pulling out every drawer and cabinet he has. By the time I get to the bedroom, I hear him on the phone, seething as someone tells him what he doesn't want to hear.

"What do you mean, insufficient evidence?"

He looks at me when I walk in and slip past him to go take a shower. His conversation filters in and out of the room, and I only catch a few words.

Four.

Jeremy.

Altercation.

Marcus Eaton.

I try my best to listen, but the words die out as the water starts up. I slip off my dress from earlier, and I step into the warm water. A wave of uncertainty hits me, right then and there. I'm not the one Eric is mad at, but I'm alone here. If he decides he's not speaking for the rest of the evening, or he's over this, I have almost no one. I suppose I could find Linda or Arlene, but ultimately, I don't want that. I just want whatever Evelyn is doing to stop, so Eric won't get called away again.

I rinse my hair until my eyes burn, and I nearly jump out of my skin when a hand touches my shoulder.

"I thought you heard me come in."

Eric's mutter is a half apology. He frowns at me once I'm looking at him, and he steps closer before I point out he's in the shower with me. He walks in further, until his own hair is wet, and the water spills down his skin in an oddly hypnotic manner.

"I figured I'd just take a shower and go to bed. That was Jason. Four punched Jeremy in the face and now they're both filing some report on each other."

Eric says all this in a rush of pure and utter loathing, and he screws his eyes shut. He opens them, but only because I've reached for him. I step forward so the water hits my back, and the size difference between us is something I'd never really considered.

He's much taller than me. My head comes to the middle of his chest. I press my hands there, feeling warm, wet skin and precisely defined muscle. There's a lot of work behind his physique, both physical and mental, and my guess is he rarely grants himself a day off from either.

"You're much smaller than I thought you would be."

His words break my trance and I tilt my head up to look at him. He's still sharp; everything on him is sharp angles and precise features. His lips are full, and I know they're soft, but sometimes rough. His hands aren't soft at all, but they're strong and unafraid.

"What were you thinking?" There is no horror or hesitation in my question. He's staring down at me like this isn't real, like I'm not standing beneath the water with my hands pressing over his skin. "Did you think I would be taller? Or something else?"

Ashley was taller.

Curvier, though it was unlikely she'd eaten any ice cream with her dinner.

Bitchier, if that counted for anything.

"I was with you enough to know how tall you are. When I thought of you, you were always…I don't know how to explain it. When I see you now, I wonder why anyone thought you'd be safe against Landon."

This is the first time I've heard him stumble over his words. He's less eloquent with them, and his confession that when he thought of me –in whatever manner –he imagined me perhaps stronger. Or taller. Or like the initiates, working to fend off their opponents.

"I haven't really stopped thinking about you. Not since the day you walked into me. Maybe that's why," Eric shrugs, and I can see him trying to figure this out. My presence in his mind is a good thing, perhaps even bettered by the fact that he was telling me about it. "I can keep you safe. I promise you I will."

"I know," I slide my hands up around his neck, and it's a stretch. I have to rise up on my toes, and the lack of warm water is immediately remedied by my skin against his. "You said you wouldn't hurt me."

"I won't," he declares, loudly, though it's lessened by the sound of the water. "Harrison made me promise, too. He said he'd kill me if you ever came to him and were mad."

"Are you afraid of him?" I pull back to look at his face, and his familiar smirk is back.

His eyes light up in delight at the thought, and he shakes his head.

"No. And the only reason I'm not, is because I think you won't let him kill me."

His arrogance returns just as quickly. He leans down to brush his lips against mine, and he mumbles he'll help me wash my hair.

There is no disappointment that it doesn't turn into anything more. He helps me work conditioner through my hair, and I offer to help him wash his. The absolute normality of this situation is so vibrant I'm surprised he doesn't back away or insist I get out and he'll meet me in bed. Every so often, there's a second when he doesn't look convinced. It's always so fleeting it's almost not there, but I know what it is.

He's afraid.

Not that this won't work out or that Harrison will come and kill him at my request.

That it will work out.

On Friday, the air is colder than ever.

I shiver as I walk through the compound, slowly trying to memorize landmarks. I can only pick out a few of them, though Eric often gave directions such as –go north at the end of the third hallway, then head west until you reach the pit –like I knew which way that was. Being underground was oddly disorienting. I got lost on the walk to his office twice, and once I wound up at what appeared to be a daycare.

The girl working waved to me. She wasn't much older than me, and her long blonde hair was intricately braided around her head. She was surrounded by small children, all screaming and yelling, and all dressed in black.

The second time, I wound up in an endless hallway. My fingers skimmed along the freezing walls, and the further I went, the colder it got. My only saving grace was Jason appeared, sprinting out of nowhere, and insisting I go with him before we got too far underground.

Today, I make a promise to myself to not get lost. Every so often, there is a map carved into the walls. They are all crude and very basic, like someone demanded they be placed around the faction, and they are very unhelpful. But now I don't need them quite as much. I head through a short hallway, around a turn that takes me to the shops, and I spy the elevator in the corner. My jaunt over to it is quick. I only glance at the stores for a second, and I press the call button a few times, only because I'd watched Eric do it.

Dauntless is so different from Amity that at times I feel like an imposter.

The feeling was going away, but it rose up when I wasn't sure how something worked or where I should be going. Eric promised me he wouldn't leave me alone to wander around for hours on end, but his job pulled him in a little more each day. Being a leader meant his phone rang constantly, and he sometimes had no choice but to answer. He had his own system of ranking whose call was important enough to answer: his friends came first, though he didn't always answer them, then Harrison, then Max, then Tori, and anyone below them didn't exist. I would guess I fell near the top, but I have no clue where my phone is. I also have no clue how to explain who I am here.

I had thought I should maybe get a job, but so far, I'd spent my days exploring Dauntless, and eating with Jason and Rylan.

"This way."

I'm not at all paying attention when the elevator dings and the doors open. I'm staring back at one of the stores, where I swear I see Christina, and I decide to go say hello. I move to step away right as someone says my name, and the voice catches me off guard entirely.

When I turn, I find Harrison, my mother and Zander, all staring at me, waving me over.

"I've missed you so much."

My mother crushes me against her, hugging me far tighter than one would think possible given her size. Her dress is pretty and warm, and her sweater isn't one I've seen before. She holds onto me like she's drowning, and beside her, Zander demands to ride in the elevator again. His tiny voice echoes, and he's loud enough I almost miss what my mom says.

"I heard he took you back with him. Are you…do you like it here?"

She whispers the words into my hair, one hand on the back of my head digging in, and the other on my lower back. Every time she moves, I feel like she might break apart. The stress of what's going on isn't lost on her and might even be worse for her. I'd left with Eric because I'd been arrested, though it was obvious he'd spent more time planning for me to come here than one could ever imagine. She'd left Amity to stay with her husband who'd been attacked, but now she was here, with Harrison and Zander.

It was pretty obvious to me she wasn't taking any peace serum, either.

"It's…different, but I do like it." I don't bother lying to her. Telling her I adored Dauntless would be wrong, since I barely knew my way around, but it was light years better than Amity. Not one person here had tried to kill me, and the worst thing anyone had done was assume I was married to Eric.

Even my time with Eric was so different that I often felt like I was in one of the stories I'd read to Zander before bedtime. He wasn't romantic or overly affectionate, but his actions betrayed his smirks and arrogance. The way his hands pulled me closer, his fingers pressed deeper, and his head bent toward mine told me everything.

He had no intention of returning me to Amity. No intention of ever giving someone the chance to get close to me. Whatever connection we had made him turn his life upside down, and his struggle to pretend it wasn't happening was interesting to watch.

Or experience.

"It's really cold," I confess into the dark maroon dress, and I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she's been here before. I wonder if Harrison had brought her here, or ever offered her the chance to live elsewhere. "Why are you here? Why is Zander here?"

"Everly, let go!"

Zander yells my name the second I say his, and when I lift my head up, the little brat glares at me. The last time I saw him, he had chosen Jerry's snacks over staying with me. I was a decent substitute while our mother was gone, but it's clear he's missed her. He tries to wiggle between us, and when he doesn't get his way, he stomps over to grasp onto Harrison.

He's busy watching all of this play out like he expected it.

"I have to fill out some paperwork," my mother answers, and she still doesn't let go. She shakes her head at Zander, and he ignores her in favor of trying to unbutton the sleeve on Harrison's jacket. After a second, he gives up, and he shoves himself as close as he can to Harrison so he can look at me in sheer annoyance. "Your…"

She stops right there, before she can say your father, and I know Harrison told her I figured out everything.

"Hank is not doing so well. Nothing is reversing whatever he was injected with. He's become agitated with everyone, including Dr. Coulter. He ripped out one of the IVs and he's…he's asked to come home. But he doesn't remember where his home is or who anyone is. He told me to leave a few days ago."

There's an ache in her words that hurts. She looks like she could disappear, like the weight of this might just crush her into a million pieces.

I stare at her wordlessly.

"This is my fault," I blurt out before I can stop myself. "Landon –"

"It is in no way your fault. The actions of Landon were his and his alone." Harrison cuts me off sharply, and he steps closer. Zander follows, and when he looks up at me, he smiles.

Sweetly.

Like he wasn't trying to be the center of attention two seconds ago.

"If anything, everyone in the Amity faction should have listened to you warning them. You told them what was going on. It's not Hank's fault, either." Harrison's stare is reassuring, but I still nod miserably. "With any luck, things will turn around soon."

"Is he staying in Erudite or is he going home?" I look at both of them, and only Harrison answers.

"Daniel doesn't want to let him go just yet. But we need your mother's statements about what happened. There's some pushback from Kang about how serious this is and how concerned he should be. So, I went to see Eden and I thought maybe you'd want to see your mom. It's Visiting Day, anyway." Harrison smiles, and he sounds hopeful. "Zander wanted to tag along, too."

"I want to see the trucks," Zander throws out, and I notice his clothes are the ones I'd dyed black. "Take me to get coffee!"

"Coffee?" My mother looks confused, even as he nods.

"That might be my fault," Harrison suddenly looks sheepish. "I gave him some of my coffee the last time I saw him. He said he liked it."

"Coffeeeeee," Zander says it like a robot would, then he laughs at his own hilarity. "Harrison, take me to the coffee and the trucks!"

"We'll get there. I'll show you the whole faction if your mom's okay with it. There's a lot of people here today, so I figured it would be a good day to visit. No one will even think twice as to why they're here."

"Oh," My mother looks overwhelmed at this revelation, but she finally smiles. It's not at all a happy smile, but it's less devastated than before. She lets go so she can step back and stare at me, though her gaze is soft. "You look so pretty. Much happier than the last time I saw you."

"I am. But…what about…are you going to Erudite?" The words are still hard to say. There's some brand new loyalty to Harrison, because Hank certainly hadn't tried to stop Landon the way Harrison had. It was unlikely Hank ever would, but the very basis of the argument was the same. Hank had helped raise me, but something had changed, and it wasn't for the better. It didn't warrant what happened to him, and the thought that he wouldn't be okay is nausea inducing. "Are you going back there?"

"Tomorrow," my mom's answer is quiet. "I left Paisley and Holly with May, and Leif and Wesley with Jerry. I have to get back to Amity at some point. I have some patients to follow up with. I sort of left Amity a mess."

Her stare holds a lot of remorse and a lot of conflicted feelings over what had happened. It wasn't a full scale war, but it was enough to shake the faction.

"They're waiting to hear what's going to happen. We have no leader. May has been helping everyone. She's keeping things going. Harrison said Dauntless will oversee it for a while, so that'll help." She looks over at him, and I wonder if he'll be the one to run it.

It would be fitting if it were him. He was looking for a way out, and this might be his chance.

Which I hate, since I just got here.

"With any luck, we'll have that answer today," Harrison shakes his head, and he reaches for my mom. He takes her by the elbow and pushes a button on the panel to shut the elevator doors. "Come on. I think we should get some lunch. I already told Eric to meet us at Clyde's. He's probably already there but I told him thirty minutes. I thought we could stop and see a few stores."

I'm surprised at this, but it's much better than my original plan of wandering around Dauntless until I knew where I was going.

I step back with my mother, and all four of us watch as the doors slowly close, and the elevator rises up.

"Is something wrong?"

My mother stares at Rylan, his hair down so long it touches the table. He's been sighing heavily every few minutes, and so far, the only who noticed was Eric. He kept glaring at him, trying to silently get Rylan to shut up, but it wasn't working.

He kept doing it, until my mother noticed.

"Everything."

"Everything is wrong?" She blinks at him in confusion, and she should be confused.

Rylan would normally have loved this. He loved visiting Amity, and it was easy to see he loved being involved in anything family related. This was even more family related, because it was my actual, secret but no longer secret family. If he looked hard enough, he'd see my mother and father eating lunch in Dauntless with my brother and me.

My mom and Zander sit on the side of the booth with Harrison, and the sight isn't all that strange. Harrison keeps surveying his bar and asking Lucy questions every time she comes by. My mother is sitting close to him, very close, and Zander is sitting by her, coloring intently. There are no children's menus here, which Harrison dryly pointed out was because it was a bar, but someone brought Zander paper and crayons and he was happy.

Eric and I sat on the other side of the table and judging from how close he had pulled me, our few scant hours apart might as well have been years. Eric's arm is around my back, and his fingers skim my side. His leg is touching mine, the rough fabric of his pants warm against my bare legs. Every so often, my foot hits his shin and his only response is to pull me so close I'm nearly on his lap.

At the end of the table are Rylan and Jason. Jason beamed when he walked in, cheerfully announcing he was sorry he was late but Tori wanted his signature on something, and next to him is Rylan, sulking like his life had been ruined.

"How is everything wrong?"

"My toilet caught fire," Rylan sighs, and everyone stops to look at him. Next to me, Eric closes his eyes, and his grunt of annoyance doesn't go unnoticed. "You didn't even care when I told you, Eric."

"It's not a real toilet," Eric hisses, and his tone of exasperation makes me choke on my drink. "He's fine. Nothing in his actual apartment caught fire."

"How does a toilet catch fire?" My mother looks concerned, but Harrison rolls his eyes.

"It doesn't."

"It ruined my game. The whole family got caught in the bathroom. I spent hours building that world. Do you think I wanted to make Eric and Everly all over again? No. It took me a long time to get Eric's angry face right." Rylan slams his fist down on the table, and Zander eyes him warily. He then mimics him, testing out the action so his crayons scatter.

"Wait, I'm in this game?" I stare up at Eric, and he looks close to exploding. "And you're in the game? What game? What are we doing?"

"What aren't you doing? Eric is quite the exhibitionist, and I didn't even pick that trait. He's lucky you're an understanding and very loving wife. Though you're both banned from the local library for indecent exposure."

I choke again, and this time, Eric looks startled. He tries to help me, but I push him away, doing my best not to inhale the gingery soda into my lungs.

"I'm…I'm sorry, I'm lost. What does this have to do with your toilet catching fire? What were you doing in the library? Are you two married?" My mother turns to me, and so does Zander.

He makes a face, then quietly whispers _toilet fire_ , and goes back to coloring.

"Not that I know of," I cough when look up at Eric suspiciously, and he smirks in response.

Ever since the day I'd told him he was too old to marry, I knew it had bothered him. He isn't that much older than me, and he knows it. It had been funny to watch the insult on his face, and even funnier when he hissed his real age to me, as if he had to prove he wasn't too old.

"Okay, well if this is where it's going, I'd like to come to the wedding. Or maybe we can have it in Amity. We have plenty of space," my mother throws out, her face delighted as ever, and Rylan sighs again.

"You can't. No one can get out of the bathroom. And they're already married," he throws out despondently, and he reaches for his drink. "What am I going to do in my free time now?"

"You can go to Amity, instead of playing some stupid game for hours on end," Eric suggests darkly. "They need a leader."

"You didn't make your decision?" Harrison asks, and he accepts a drink from Lucy, then another, in a smaller black cup for Zander. "I thought Max met with you to finalize your plan."

"He did. Kang still isn't happy. They want someone impartial and Jack doesn't think that's us. I suggested May, but Max wants someone from Dauntless. I was thinking…" Eric pauses, and his fingers press firmly into my side. "I was thinking we send you. You already know the faction, you can get closer than anyone else can, and it's unlikely they'll attack if they know you're there. We aren't so worried that they'll try anything big, but that one will slip in and try to instigate from the inside. Colton's been tracked near the very outskirts of Amity. We're watching him, but who knows what he's planning."

"You want _me_ to go?" Harrison is thoughtful and his stare swings to me for just a second. "For how long?"

"A month to start. Amity will eventually select their own leader, but right now, they fall under our guidance. It would make sense for it to be a leader from here, rather than training someone from there."

"Maybe Rylan can help. That might take your mind off your game," Jason suggests, and it's the first thing he's said. He's been busy messaging someone on his phone, and he looks up with a grin. "You love Amity."

"I do," Rylan shrugs, and he slumps in his chair. "I even built an Amity faction in the game. I live there, but also in my mansion with my three wives. At least I did, until I got stuck in the bathroom."

"What game are you playing?" My mother looks at him, and she's genuinely curious. "And why can't you get out of the bathroom?"

"It's a glitch. There was an update and it was patchy. I don't know. I might have to just start over. Everly, I'll need to see the dress you wore the day you crashed into Eric. I saw it on video but I forgot to save it. I also need to know what you wear to bed. Or don't wear to bed."

He winks, and next to him, Jason laughs so hard he spills his drink.

"Rylan, just go with Harrison. Forget your dumbass game." Eric barks, and Zander pauses his coloring to watch him. Eric pauses, too. But only because Lucy comes by to drop off our lunch. "Or have Jason look at it. Does Christina care that you spend all your time playing it?"

"Not _all my time_ ," Rylan insists, and he perks up when his plate of chicken fingers is dropped off. "Just, five or six hours a day. Nothing major."

"What is the game?" I half whisper, and my head hits Eric's when Zander pops up from under the table. He climbs between us, then knocks me away from Eric so he can sit by him. "Zander, go back to your own seat."

"No. I want to sit with Eric!" He says the name threateningly. It's a half shriek, and he doesn't ask before he sits down on Eric's lap. "Eric! Eric! Eric!"

He chants his name a few times, and Eric does his best not to look horrified. My little brother refuses to move, and he reaches for the large steak knife beside Eric's plate. He holds it up for a single second before Eric knocks it away, and he tries to move Zander off his lap.

"Go eat by your mom," he hisses as nicely as he can. "Or your… Harrison."

"No! I'm eating with you! Give me my noodles!" Zander whirls around to glare at Eric, and I watch him with wide eyes.

Eric's discomfort is clear as day. It's clear he's not usually around small children, and probably has never had one want to sit with him. It's also clear he's used to people listening to him, because when Zander refuses, Eric stares him down, fully expecting him to give in.

It's even more obvious he's never gone up against a toddler before.

"I hate to tell you, but you're not going to win against Z-man. You might be able to kill your other enemies, but uh, you can't order him around. He also makes a mean cupcake," Rylan laughs as Eric and Zander silently glare at each other, and even my mother smiles.

"Zander, come sit by me. Let Eric eat his lunch."

"No."

Zander refuses, and he turns around, then leans back against Eric. He reaches for another fry off Eric's plate, and slowly eats it, daring someone to come move him.

"Zander one, Eric zero. You've met your true match," Jason grins, and he pulls out his phone. "I'm sending this to Meghan."

"Jason," Eric says his name threateningly, and Zander repeats Jason's name in the same manner. "I swear if you take a picture –"

"Do you guys need refills?" Lucy saves the day by stopping by, and her gaze sweeps over the table like she's memorizing all of this. Rylan, still groaning about his game being ruined while he eats his chicken fingers. Jason, taking a picture of Eric and laughing when he declares both Zander and Eric are making the same face. Harrison and my mother, now whispering quietly, as she expresses her total concern for what's going on in Erudite.

And finally me, sitting by Eric, while he keeps glancing in my direction, silently demanding I move Zander.

All in all, this feels more like a family lunch than anything I've experienced before.

"Lucy, can you bring me the check? Whenever you get the chance?"

Harrison catches her attention, and her eyes widen. She's cool looking, her eyebrow pierced with a row of rings, and her eye makeup dark and dramatic, but in front of Harrison, she looks nervous. Clyde's is packed right now, and I've watched her bounce around from table to table. There are people from every faction in here, and she hasn't' stopped for a second. Visiting Day is something I'd completely forgotten about, but it's in full swing here.

"Sure. Um, give me a minute. I'll be right back."

"If you do get married, you'll let me know, won't you?" My mother looks at me pleadingly, and she's more coherent than ever. I wonder if she's stopped taking the peace serum altogether, or if this is because she's with Harrison.

I also wonder what part of her logically thought it was a great idea for me to marry Eric. I wasn't opposed to it, but it seemed odd that she was so willing to let me spend the rest of my life with a man from another faction that I only knew because I walked into him.

Next to her, Harrison listens. He cracks the barest of smiles, and right then and there, I know they've talked about this.

"Um, sure." I answer, carefully taking another sip of my drink. "I'll keep you posted."

"I thought you didn't want to get married," Eric looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and he's smug. "Even though you said you accepted my proposal."

I stare up at him, his grey eyes flashing with total amusement, and a tiny speck of warmth. There's nothing angry or mean, nothing rude and demanding, just pure and total want, along with the desire to remind me I told him he was too old to marry.

"Wait, you proposed? In my game, you just married her. There was no proposal. She just woke up and was married. I thought we were going with that plot," Rylan huffs, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Why wasn't I there for this proposal?"

"There wasn't one," Jason elbows him, and I realize Eric's friends know a surprising amount about him. "He just…the paperwork, remember?"

I stare at him curiously, and suddenly, I find myself wondering if what I had signed was not at all a statement of what had happened, but something else altogether.

"Everly?" My mother says my name, and Eric smirks even wider.

I smile back at him, unable to answer my mother, because I have a feeling the name on my card isn't just a way to make me exist here, but the name of Eric's wife.

"Are we married?"

I stare up at him in front of the chasm, and the roar of the water is so loud I can barely think straight.

It's not at all an ideal location to be asking him this, but it is a few steps behind everyone else, and the water offers some privacy.

"Eric?"

"Everly," he finally answers me, slowly, and his eyes are dark. He's a single step ahead, but he stops when I tug on his hand. "Why do you want to know?"

There is a slow clink in my head as I put this all together, and the most prominent realization is how hopeful I am. Not because I think this will end badly, but because I want it to be him and me. I want all of this, my family visiting with Harrison, Eric and his friends eating lunch together, us being together, without anyone trying to come between us except my little brother.

"Did you ever want to marry Ashley?"

I ask the words without thinking. She wasn't exactly a threat these days. I hadn't seen her call or text him, and I hadn't heard her name mentioned. She would marry him without question, and I wonder if he liked that.

"Knock it off." He snarls his answer at me, and he closes the distance between us. Up ahead, Harrison points to something in the distance, and my mother and Zander follow him along the pathway. "Why are you asking me about her?" Now he looks mad. His eyes burn with irritation, and his hands clench into fists. "What gave you that idea?"

"I don't know. I was just thinking…she would marry you the second she got the chance," I look up at him, and he looks at me. "I don't know anything about your past relationships. I don't know anything about what happened before me. I just… sometimes I wonder if it was easier with her. I only said I didn't want to marry you because everyone thinks I can't do anything on my own. Not because I don't want to be married someday."

He relaxes a fraction of an inch. The tension in his shoulders lessens, and he drops his chin down. He lets me finish talking, and he's temporarily patient.

"Rylan said something and I wondered if maybe what I signed wasn't just… a form about Landon."

"It wasn't," Eric relents, and he suddenly looks uneasy. It's a strange look for him, but it's gone in a second. "Part of it was. I needed your statement on why Harrison killed Landon, but the other part…"

He stops, and his hands find mine.

They are warm. I step closer and everything else is drowned out by the roar of the waterfall.

"The other part is paperwork to make sure you stay here. Once we oversee Amity, the boundaries fall away. If I marry you before they elect a new leader, then you're a member of Dauntless, not Amity. It's never happened before, but we involved Candor to make sure it would work. Rylan has been helping. So has Harrison."

"But he's leaving…"

"If he accepts. He said he wishes he hadn't wasted so much time not knowing you. More than likely, he'll go to Amity and oversee it and play it by ear. My guess is he won't return. Even if Hank does."

"Have you heard anything?" I look up at him, and his hands find my waist. "Harrison said he still wasn't doing any better and he keeps asking to leave."

Eric is silent in a way which tells me he does know something. His fingers curl into my back, inching me closer, and when he looks at me, there's a slight hint of hesitation in his eyes.

"Daniel called me right before lunch. Hank has asked for you to come see him, but only you. I told Daniel I'd bring you there."

"When?" I gasp the word. Around us, the water seems to pick up. It gushes over the rocks and into nothingness, and it fills the air with a cold dampness that hurts. Eric must sense this, because I'm against his chest before I can say anything else, and his fingers work up my spine, neatly pressing one by one.

"Tonight."

My goodbyes are rough.

For one, my mother isn't leaving and neither is Harrison. Both sit next to Zander, in the mess hall, trying to downplay their panic.

I had spent the rest of the afternoon with them. Harrison didn't exactly take them on a tour of the faction, but more or less the safer places. We wandered through stores, we got coffees from a cavernous underground coffee shop, and he showed us where and how one got a tattoo here. Zander was fascinated with all of it; he cried when my mother refused to buy him a pair of the dark boots that were for sale, and he looked smug when Harrison did buy them. I trailed along behind them, and I was shocked at what I saw.

They should have been together.

My mother and Harrison's relationship was far unlike the relationship my mother and Hank had. There was an ease to them, and a genuine connection that couldn't be hidden behind forced kindness. Harrison kept a careful eye on my mother and Zander, and he was never far away. He smiled when he looked at her, warm and happy, and it only faltered when he saw me watching. He flashed me a grin, and I couldn't blame him.

He loves her.

He loves her so much I could visibly see it. Every single part of him loves her, even though she was here to talk about her husband. It made my chest hurt when he touched her arm to show her a sign on the wall asking members not to run through this area, and it made my stomach turn over when she smiled up at him.

Her own happiness was as rare as mine.

Her days were spent pretending, carefully shoving pieces of a life together in hopes of making a complete picture. From the outside, it looked good. A doting husband, a million children, a large, rambling house full of hot meals and warm desserts. Bright clothes. Two dedicated members of Amity, helping their faction the best they could.

Up close, the stress was more than visible.

An unhappy marriage, doomed from the start.

Two sets of children, looking nothing alike, all vying for love and affection.

A large, rambling house, full of secrets.

I wonder what it would have been like to grow up here, or even in Amity, with Harrison. I wonder a million things, but none of them are real, and they all make my head hurt. It hurts even more when I realize I don't have much longer before I have to leave for Erudite.

I linger by a row of knives, most real and some fake, trying to figure out what to do.

Eric had asked me to keep quiet about going to see my father. My mother didn't know he'd asked for me, and neither did Harrison. Eric looked uncomfortable when I told him I should say something, and when pressed, he told me Daniel was insistent I was the only one there.

I loathed the idea of keeping a secret from my mother. She was the one who fully supported me and my decision to be in Dauntless, and she'd never once told me to stay away from Eric.

But now she looks suspicious, and rightfully so.

"We'll be back in a little bit. I have to get a few more statements and Everly is coming with me."

Eric's words aren't a total lie. He informed me he wanted to talk with Jeremy, and Jeremy is currently in Erudite. Since Four had punched him in the face, they had to be separated. I wanted to ask why they'd been fighting, but all Eric would say was that they were both annoying and they deserved each other.

"What time will you be back?" Harrison looks at Eric, not me, and his tone isn't impressed. "You can call Jeremy, you know."

Eric throws him a winning smile, but it's more fake than ever.

"I did. He didn't answer his phone. Plus, I need his signature."

"Alright," Harrison shrugs. "You don't need my permission to leave the faction. Neither does Everly."

The tone of his voice implies he knows I could very well stay here. It's not detrimental that I go along with Eric if I'm going for the reasons Eric gave him. His stare tells me he assumes I'm going to see Hank.

"Will you still be here when I get back?" I hug my mother goodbye, hoping she'll say yes. She moves to the side so I can hug Zander, and he flings himself at me like he hasn't been annoying me all day. "Will I see you again?"

"I'm sure," my mom smiles, and Zander holds on tighter.

Tiny hands paw at my skirt, and he threatens to pull the whole dress down as he tries to get me to pick him up.

"I love you, Everly. Come home," he whispers. He clings to my dress, and when my mother comes to pry him away, he shrieks. "No! I want to stay with Everly!"

"I won't be gone long. I meant to ask you, did you like Dauntless?" I bend down so I'm at his level, and he stares back from beneath a mess of dark hair. "Maybe Harrison will take you to the kitchens. Or…the waterfall."

He considers this.

"Coffee?"

"I'm sure he'll take you back to get more coffee," I grin at his bargain, and so does Harrison.

"We can go back. You can show me the way if you remember," he throws out, mostly convincing Zander. "Actually, if we head that way, they might let you make your own drink. There's a shift change and one of the owners will be working."

"Okay, well…just be careful. I'll wait until I see you before we leave. I wanted to go say hello to Jake. I saw him and his mom earlier." My mother makes a promise she can't really keep, but it's alright. I'm so happy I got to see her, and I hope she's here when I get back. "Everly…"

"I love you," I hug her again, and I break away only because Eric clears his throat. He's not impatient or trying to hurry me, he's just standing there talking to Max, like all of this is completely normal.

It's not.

It's not even normal when, twenty minutes later, he helps me climb up into the truck. The docking bay is quiet. There's really no one else here, except for a few soldiers. They linger; a few wave in approval as he backs up the truck, and one waves him on to head through the gates. He's even quiet as he approaches the security checkpoint, and one sharp turn later, Dauntless is a blur behind us.

It's funny to watch. I feel like every time I leave somewhere, my time there isn't really done. I'd felt a weird closure with Amity, but I knew it wasn't the last I'd set foot there. Now, I feel a weird longing for Dauntless. I want to return, and I know I will, but having my mom and Zander there makes it feel wrong to leave.

I think about this the whole drive to Erudite, quiet and dark, and ultimately, incredibly unsure of what to expect.

What I don't expect is to ask Eric a question that changes everything.

He drives through Erudite easily. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, and the other toys with the ends of my hair. We head through a different part of Erudite that I don't remember seeing, or maybe I did and it was lost in the dark. Large houses appear before us, and I stare at them, each one more grand than the last. The street is long, and it winds around and around until I have no clue where we are. It's dark, but well lit. Each house has a large gate in front of it, and some are set so far back I can't see them.

Eric is silent as he weaves down a hill, and the back of a building comes out of nowhere. I make a guess it's the hospital, and when he drives around to the front, I'm right.

Like everything else in Erudite, the hospital is large and white, looming over me with a rather ominous feeling. Eric parks in a lane marked Priority Vehicles. I want to ask if anyone else in Erudite could drive. Only a handful of people in Amity know how to drive. The work trucks are old, and often hard to maneuver if you didn't know what you were doing. In Dauntless, it seemed like plenty of soldiers knew how to drive the trucks, though it was a select group who did.

In Erudite, there are a few unmarked cars parked along the lane, including one sleeker than the rest. I stare at it as I slide over to climb out of the truck, but I stop when Eric reaches for me.

"Are you okay?"

His hands find my waist. The gesture is both chivalrous, since the drop down is nearly as far as I am tall, and an easy way for him to touch me. His fingers curl into my waist, and I hesitate for a split second before I fall forward. My feet hit the solid, pristine street, and even their roads seem pretentious.

"Everly?"

"I just need to ask you something." I stare up at his face, basked in warm, attractive lighting pouring out of a streetlight. Eric considers my statement, and I watch him mentally debate answering me.

He isn't great with sharing information.

It had taken a lot to learn the few things I knew about him, and a lot more to get him to admit he wanted me to live with him.

"Fine. One question, Amity."

"Two," I take a page out of Zander's book and I try my hand at bargaining. Eric shakes his head, and I scrunch up my face. "Three. Four?"

"That's the opposite of how this works," Eric retorts, but he doesn't let go of me. "What do you want to know? Why I didn't tell you Daniel called sooner? I didn't have time. He called as I was walking to lunch."

"No, not that. I wanted to ask you, would you have married her if I wasn't here? If you and I had never met, do you think you would have married Ashley?"

He flinches at her name. It's quick; so fast I nearly miss it, but there.

"Did you sleep with her in your bed?"

"Everly," he says my name warningly, and I don't know why I'm suddenly so fixated on her. Maybe it was seeing my mom and Harrison together. Or maybe it was my night spent with Eric, feeling safe and happy and finally like something in my life was right. Maybe I was afraid of Ashley, that she could ruin all this for me. She hasn't even been around, nor is she in front of us, but I want to hear him say what we had going on wasn't what he'd already had with someone else.

Giving up my entire life in Amity, even if it was a miserable time with an even more miserable future coming for me, was still nerve wracking.

"I just need to know if you…"

I can't say the rest.

He waits.

His stare is dark and unhappy, heavy with a reluctance to answer me, but he knows what I'm asking. He finally looks away, and shrugs.

"Yes."

My stomach sinks, and I don't know which one he's answering.

"I never would have married her. Ever. She was no one. She was convenient. But she's been in my apartment a few times. Not like you. She never stayed the night," he answers tightly, and I feel marginally better knowing this. "Why does she bother you so much? Why do you want to know about her?"

His questions are sharp, but it helps hide his defensive feelings regarding her. "Why? Did she hurt you? Has she tried to hurt you?"

Eric's grip tightens at the thought, and when I shake my head no, he steps closer.

"Everly…"

"I just don't want her to have the same thing. Every time I've ever met her, she's been awful. I don't want to think about you with her, or that maybe this is what you two shared." My concerns, valid and honest, seem dumb when I say them out loud.

Eric had made a place for me in his life, and I was acting like her photo is hanging in the hallway.

"Landon only liked me for one reason. I guess, I just want this to be real." My voice wavers at the end, and I shake my head, hoping to dispel the sick feeling that I might cry in front of him.

I try to stop it, but he doesn't miss much.

"You have no idea how real this is," Eric answers thickly, and he drops his head down. One hand leaves my waist to grasp the back of my head, and he carefully tilts my head up to look at him. "You have no idea what you signed."

"The paperwork?" I ask, and my answer is his lips brushing mine. It's slow and soft, and he gently bites down on my lower lip. He doesn't move, but when he does, my next words are quiet. "Did you…are we married?"

His nose grazes mine.

I feel him suck in a sharp inhale, and his grip tightens in my hair.

I don't get my answer.

Behind us, the doors to the hospital slide open as an alarm goes off, and someone yells out his name. He lifts his head away, turning it in the direction of the voice, and his lips part open as he starts to sneer.

There, a few feet away, dressed in blue scrubs, is Daniel and a woman I can only assume is Eric's mother.

Blythe.


	22. Life in Dauntless, Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been following along! My apologies! I'm still working on getting all the chapters updated! Thanks for your patience!

She doesn't like me.

Eric's mother stands next to his father, and I've never seen anyone so intimidating in my life. Everything about her is flawless. Her blonde hair is even and cut to her jaw, and it barely moves when she tilts her head. Her eyes are the same color as Eric's, and her lips press together the same way his do when he's annoyed. Her dress is fitted and elegant, a royal blue that is somehow more royal than anyone else's, and her heels match. Her coat is stiff and heavy, and the collar is flat and severe.

She stands perfectly straight, just like Eric, and I can feel the disdain coming from her as she eyes me with pure disgust.

The worst part might be that she doesn't even try to hide it. Her stare rakes over my dress, the dark black fabric a size too large, and the dark shoes tied in a hurry. She looks at my hair, long and tangled into a mess from Eric's hands, and she doesn't like it.

She doesn't like his hands on me, either.

Eric hasn't let go since she said his name, and he doesn't seem like he will. If anything, he holds on tighter, his fingers pressing into my side as he makes no move to walk toward them.

Beside her, Daniel smiles. It's not entirely warm, and it looks a little forced from where I stand.

"I was hoping you'd be here sooner."

Daniel is the first one to speak. He steps away from Blythe, and she watches him out of the corner of her eye. She's taller than I would have thought, and not at all warm. There is nothing motherly about the way she looks at Eric. I half expected her to crack a hint of a smile, or at least look pleased to see him.

She looks nothing but indifferent, if not displeased.

Her gaze fixes itself on me; it's sticky, heavy with blame and impatience. "You're late. Your father said you'd be here an hour ago. I only came by to see if you were really coming."

Her words are as cold as the breeze scraping my cheek. There is no concern over my father, only that she has been inconvenienced by coming to see if he'd show up.

Eric ignores her.

"Where is he?" His response is to his father only. His fingers lessen on my side, and panic creeps up my spine as he lets go to walk forward.

I don't know if the shiver is from the cold, biting at my skin and burning as it whips past, or from Daniel's stare finding me, and his hesitation makes my stomach turn over.

"Follow me."

"Everly."

My father stares up at me. His expression goes back and forth between exhaustion and determination. I can see when it slips away; his eyes turn dull, and he looks past me, like he's looking at someone else in the room.

I stand at the side of the hospital bed, unable to move.

Eric and I had walked up here with his father. Daniel was quiet. His white coat was the same as the one in the picture on my phone, and his name was embroidered in bright blue. He walked easily, but his shoulders were tense and he kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. He seemed embarrassed by the number of nurses coming to talk to him. He tried to wave them off, but they needed a lot of things from him.

Signatures.

Approval.

His instructions.

A few whisper he has patients who have awakened, and he is nothing but professional as he gives a time he'll be back. He doesn't bask in the glory of any of this, but accepts it, as his place in helping Erudite.

Eric walked with his hand on my lower back. His mother walked steps ahead, her heels clacking on the marbled floors, and she greeted no one. A few said her name, calling her Dr. Coulter and one person dared to say Blythe. She granted them a brief glance in their direction, but no further recognition. Her authority felt scarier than Eric's. She seemed untouchable, especially when she paused as the hallway split into a different section and crossed her arms.

She stayed there.

Daniel led us to a room halfway down. He caught my elbow, then let go immediately, but not before he said he was happy we were here.

I wasn't expecting any of this.

"Where have you been? You look different."

The frailness to him is striking, but it's not just limited to his physique. It's in his voice, like a tiredness heavier than anything, and his hands. He gestures for me to come closer, and I step forward slowly.

The room is large.

It's spacious and white, with all sorts of beeping machines and complicated looking wires. It's an odd setting to see him in, and not just because he's always looked healthy. The last good memory of him is us in the kitchen. He was drenched in warm, golden sunlight, as he told me he was sorry. He hugged me, a crushing hold that more or less asked me to forgive him even though he didn't think I would. Thinking back now, it felt like a blow.

He was quick to assume the worst when it came to me. He had apologized, but something in him didn't believe I would accept it. I did. I had willingly let it go, promising to work harder and better, and doing everything in my power to be a better daughter.

It was a secret we both kept. I knew I didn't belong in Amity, and so did he. It ate at me, just like it did him.

Before me now, his skin is sallow. He's sitting up halfway, but there's an IV in his hand, stitches on the side of his head, and a dull bruise sprawling from his temple to his eye. His shirt is not one I recognize, and the dinner he hasn't eaten is in front of him. When I make it to the side of the bed he reaches for me, taking my hand in his.

"I kept asking for you. I wanted to see you before…before…"

He pauses, and his hand grasps mine tighter.

I'm reminded of when I was little.

I couldn't have been older than Zander by a year or so. I stood on the edge of the pathway, watching everyone head into the main faction to start their day. I was jealous, the way any little kid is when they want something they can't have. I didn't care where the people were going or why they were heading in, just that I wanted to go. My anger was from boredom, not wanting to sit at home and play with Forrest or eat breakfast with my mom.

He was there.

He said my name and extended his hand out to me. I can remember him grasping on tightly, but carefully, like he was expecting to be pushed away. He didn't deserve my rejection of him, but I didn't know any better.

That day, he walked me to work with everyone else. It took us forever. I remember stopping by May's to say hello and stopping by Jerry's to see if he was ready for work. I remember he never let go of my hand, never let me wander too far, and took me all the way to the fields, where the workers went out in droves to pick crops. I was happy, clinging onto him as he picked me up, and he pointed out all the places in Amity that we could see.

I think he loved me that day.

My eyes hurt as the long-buried grief swells up. It's been hidden beneath my rib cage, waiting to be let out, burning away, second by second.

But not for much longer.

I move to sit on the bed next to him, and I hold onto his hand as tightly as I can. He smiles up at me, his eyes light and his hair thinning, and I remember putting my head on his chest when he carried me home, me too tired after our adventure, and him unwilling to let me trail behind.

"Hi Daddy."

This time, the crying makes me nauseous.

It hurts; it makes my stomach turn over and over, and I frantically try to stop before I throw up in the bathroom of the fancy Erudite hospital. It's quiet in here. The walls are white, but they're covered in a wallpaper with a white pattern mixed with a blue so light it's hard to see. The lights are white. The sinks are white. Everything is white, even the door handle.

It's so intense I feel like I'm freezing, and it worsens when I realize I have no clue how to get back to where I was.

"You're fine."

I promise myself as I wash my face in the sink, pressing my hands over my eyes until the feeling stops. Eventually, the cold seeps beneath my skin and into my bones until I wish I'd brought a jacket. The chill in the air isn't exactly welcoming so I shove my hair off my face and try to smooth it back so it doesn't look like a mess. I immediately feel more composed, and I focus on being grateful I'd seen my father.

I'd left my father once he fell asleep.

I didn't want to leave. We caught up quickly, but very gently. He mostly listened while I talked about Dauntless. I told him what happened with Landon in the most delicate way possible. I didn't want to upset him, and he knew it. He stared up at me as I explained why I'd attacked him, and how I'd ended up in Dauntless, and for once, he got it.

"I don't understand why he would try to hurt you?"

It was a question I didn't have an answer to. Landon didn't like me for any reason more than he found me physically attractive. He was manipulative and sneaky, and I was another prize on his hunt for factional domination.

"I think because you promised I'd marry him and I didn't," I answered, and his eyes immediately fell to the heavy blanket. "Why would you tell him that? He thought he had some claim over me. Then he went and joined an army to try and take over."

"I'm sorry. I told him plenty of times to give you space. I thought maybe you were sick of him hanging around. I told him if he was patient, maybe things would change. I didn't mean for it to be taken that way. I never promised him your hand in marriage. I thought…I thought perhaps one day, you'd look at him differently. The Landon I knew was a good guy. He wasn't hurting anyone. I can't say the same for him now."

"He hurt you," I had pointed out needlessly, and my own stare fell to the blanket. "But he can't anymore."

My father had looked up at me, but I couldn't bring myself to be the one who revealed what happened. Landon's war ended at the hand of Harrison, and it was all for nothing. The factionless hadn't won, and neither had Amity. All he'd done was stir up a wave of questionable violence, disbanded our leader, and set forth enough unrest that Amity had been handed over to Dauntless.

In the morning, Harrison would take over.

In the morning, my father would return.

He promised me he felt better. He was feeling stronger, his memories were returning one by one, and the most prominent thing he'd taken from all this was that while he loved me, honestly and as much as someone can love their own child, he wasn't happy. He knew my mother's love for him was a placeholder, and he didn't fault her.

"I knew the whole time that he would one day come back. I tried to leave a few years ago, and we agreed I would stay until you had picked a faction. I've been looking, trying to think of a way to leave and still help her."

His words surprised me. I was the least favorite, but the one expected to help. Forrest got a pass because he was older. Because he would sneak out when no one was looking, or he would shirk the responsibility in favor of something Amity was hosting. He was the ideal member, strong and happy, content with living there, and he got away with everything because of this. My father seemed happier when we weren't around, but I never once imagined he'd want to leave. It was surreal to hear him talk like this had been going on behind the scenes for a while.

"What are you going to do?"

I didn't let go of him. I held on tighter, wishing I could go back to that day when he walked with me, and hold on even tighter.

"What about Paisley and Holly, and Leif and Wesley?" I name my brothers and sisters who look like him, and it's an unconscious family divide.

"They'll be fine. I won't be far away. I inquired about a property not too long ago. I was approved, and I think…I think it's time." He said all this with a smile, the first I'd seen since I showed up.

"Why are you telling me this? Why not Forrest?"

He thought about this, and his shrug wasn't dismissive, but a quiet response that there is no answer.

"I wanted you to know. Out of everyone, you were…you were the one who questioned my place in your life. You never trusted me, not even when I gave you a reason to. I wanted to be honest with you. I begged your mother to tell you, just…to explain what was going on. I think things will be better now. I just hope you'll come see me. You and your...Eric. I don't want this to be it."

When he finished speaking, I felt foolish. I'd never once considered my actions could hurt him. I'd written him off as being strong and annoying, not at all fatherly when he needed to be, and disinterested in me completely.

He wasn't entirely at fault.

He promised me he was fine. He was happy he had loved my mother when he did, and he was happy he had children. I wasn't entirely convinced, but he looked so much better by the time we were done talking, that I couldn't believe someone said he would never return.

"Why are you crying? Your father is fine. You should be thanking my husband for spending hours working to help him."

Blythe's words catch me off guard. I wasn't expecting her to come in here, nor was I expecting her to actually talk to me. She doesn't come anywhere near where I'm standing, but she crosses her arms over her chest and stares at me like I don't belong here.

She's not wrong.

"How did they make him remember?" I look back at her, unwilling to back down, and it seems wrong that my first interaction with Eric's mother is this: a standoff in the bathroom, while she looks at me like I'm scum. "They said he couldn't remember anything."

"This is one of the most advanced facilities in all the factions. Of course, we'd be able to help." Her words are clipped. "Eric asked I make sure you're alright. Is Hank sleeping?"

I nod.

"Good. If you're done in here, I need you to come with me. Daniel has asked that you join us for dinner."

Her words spark a rush of anxiety through me. I'd never once considered myself unfriendly or undeserving of common decency, but she clearly does. And she's made it perfectly clear Daniel invited me, not her.

Blythe throws me one more look, turns on her heel, and is gone before I can respond.

We don't eat in the hospital.

I had thought we'd head to some sort of cafeteria. Eric mentioned his father often ate here, and my assumption was that was where we were going. Instead, we got back in the truck, and drove a few streets over to a large building with immense glass windows. I tried to take it all in, hoping the dinner would go well, and not appear like I was overwhelmed by such a place.

I've never seen anything like it.

The inside is almost all white. There's some blue and silver mixed in, but mostly white. It's so blinding I blink a few times, and my dress feels a little too casual for the luxurious décor. Eric has my hand in his, but his grip is so tight it hurts.

It only takes me a second to figure out why.

His parents somehow arrived before us. A waiter pauses his route to tell Eric where they're sitting, and from what I gather, they have a normal table here. He recognizes Eric, smiling politely as he points across the room, and they are in deep conversation.

My stomach drops.

Neither look very happy.

Blythe is sitting with her arms crossed, and Daniel is trying to hand her a basket of dinner rolls.

I'm suddenly nervous that this won't go well. His mother might not have liked me because we were late, or she might not have liked me because she was sent to come find me, but maybe she'll like me if we have dinner together. I focus on this to keep my hopes up, but the way Eric's fingers crush mine tells me he thinks otherwise. I reach for his hand with my other hand, and I have the urge to ask if we can go home.

He doesn't seem easy to rattle, but something about her has put him on edge.

I lose my nerve when the waiter ushers us on. We walk through the restaurant quickly, and a few glance up in our direction. I'm relieved to see most are dressed normally. The restaurant is upscale, but there are plenty who aren't wearing suits and jackets. His parents sit at a table near the middle, and they've already been served drinks. I take the seat beside Eric, and once I do, both his parents stare at me.

Daniel smiles at me. It's still not happy, not like it was when I saw him at the market, but again forced. His mother's stare is still icy, frigid even as she takes a sip of her wine and sets it down slowly. She observes us before her like lab specimens, then returns her gaze to Eric.

It drips with annoyance. It's so thick I can feel it, and he can, too.

He keeps his spine straight, and his shoulders back.

"How long will you be here?"

Again, she speaks only to Eric.

His posture is stiff and unfriendly. He cocks his head at her, weighing if she deserves an answer. When it seems like he's decided she doesn't, his father says his name carefully.

"Eric…"

"Tonight. We came to see Everly's father. That's it."

"So you could come here to see…some farmer," his mother looks at me, pausing as a waiter hands me a large glass of water. "Your aunt is looking for you, you know. She said you've pushed off several meetings you were supposed to attend. She seems to think you might be reneging on the agreement you've made."

"I've been busy." Eric shrugs, inhaling slowly, like he's restraining himself. "Jeanine is not my top priority right now."

His dismissal is clear.

He doesn't bother to accept the water from the waiter, and he ignores the man as he sets down a slew of forks and knives to the table. Our waiter announces he'll give us a minute, and he hurries away to check on another table. Next to us is a group of men and women who I assume are doctors. They all sneak quick glances in our direction, but Blythe pays no attention to them. She finally looks at me, and I can feel her stare scraping over my skin.

"How old are you?"

I look up from the water, and she's staring at me with dark disapproval. I consider lying, just this once, but the look on her face tells me she'll know.

"You're awfully young looking. How long have you two been involved?"

"I'm…eighteen," I take a sip of the water, hoping she'll relax. I'm not sure what I did to make her hate me, but it's clear she does.

"And you chose to go live in Dauntless?" Her eyes blink away her disbelief, but it stays there. "Or do you live in Amity?"

"I live in Dauntless now. I –" My pause comes right before announcing I was only in Dauntless because I got arrested. "Are you from Erudite?"

My question catches her off guard, but she doesn't even bother to hide her annoyance. Her lip curls up, and Daniel interrupts before she can answer.

"Thank you so much for coming here tonight. Hank should be able to go home as soon as tomorrow. We found a combination that counteracted the serum. It might come with a few lingering side effects, but he should return to Amity with no issues." He looks happy at this, proud of his work. "He asked for you a few times, but we wanted to make sure he knew what he was saying. Your mother was giving him the names of all your siblings, and I didn't want to confuse him. He specifically wanted to see you."

"Thank you for telling Eric," I smile, and someone sets down a plate, another plate, and a napkin, and half whispers our entrees will be out soon. We haven't ordered anything, but it must not be an option here. "It was really good to see him. He looks…rough, but better than I was expecting."

"We're very happy to help. The case presented was interesting. Greg is worried that we might need to look into mass producing this version of serum in case the other starts to become widely used. Eric mentioned the factionless had it, and my guess is, they'll use it again." His father pushes his glasses up his nose, and his smile is brighter now. "I have a meeting tomorrow to talk to a few others. We'd like to know what we're up against."

"You aren't up against anything. The factionless are not a problem," Blythe interjects, throwing him a quick frown. Her stare finds me, unflinching as ever, but I don't look away. "What's your name again?"

A second passes between us. I feel like this is some weird test, and she most certainly knows my name.

"Everly."

"And now you're Eric's…" she pauses to let me know I'm no one to him or her, but he glares at her like he's about to leap across the table.

"Knock if off, Blythe," Eric warns, and he says her name threateningly. "Drink your wine and stop asking her pointless questions."

"Well you haven't bothered to tell us her name. I can't imagine she's high on your priority list if you can't be bothered to tell us who she is." Blythe does take a sip of her wine, and the large wedding ring on her finger sparkles beneath the light. It's so huge it's hard to believe it's real, and I've never really seen anyone wear a wedding ring before. "Do you live with him?"

"Blythe."

Eric snaps before I can answer, and there are several tense seconds of silence. My hopes of this going well crash right down in flames and I desperately try to think of a way to save it.

"What do you do here?" I look at Eric's mother, searching for a speck of something. Warmth. Something that reminds me of my own mother. A flash of an actual human being. I try to imagine coming to her because I didn't feel good, or because I needed someone to talk to, but the idea is laughable at best. "Are you a doctor?"

"I'm the Chief of Staff at the Center for Psychological Services. I was called in to make sure your father wasn't suffering from anything other than the serum," she answers flatly, and annoyance crosses her face. "What did you do in Amity? Did you go to school there? What kind of schooling does one receive in such a faction?"

"Blythe, I said knock it off." Eric says her name in a warning tone, and it's spoken tightly.

Her stare flits to him, but there's not much to it.

"She doesn't mean any harm, Eric. She's just being nosey. We don't know much about the education system in Amity. Maybe your mother is curious," Daniel points out, but even he doesn't look convinced. "Just…give her a chance."

Eric grunts in response. I find it a little odd he calls them by their first names, but I have a feeling it's a way to keep a disconnect between them.

"I did go to school there. We follow the same education standards from here," I answer her quickly, thinking maybe she's got the wrong idea about me. "We actually have a few members who came from Erudite. They've all worked to create our watering systems and our...um…the water treatment…plant."

My hope dies.

The look on her face is like she's smelled something terrible. She looks over at Eric, then back at me, and her lips are pressed so tightly together they almost disappear.

"It's alright. I'm sure there are lots of other things about you Eric enjoys. It doesn't matter your level of education."

"Excuse me?" I say the words before I mean to, but my mouth has fallen open in surprise. "I've completed everything I was asked to. I was in the middle of my initiation when…when everything happened." I try not to look at Eric; I don't want Blythe to think I need him to leap to my defense. "I'm not an idiot."

"I'm sure you're lovely," Blythe smiles, flippantly, and beside her, Daniel's eyes widen.

I can feel Eric tense up. He's clenching his jaw down so hard I'm surprised it hasn't snapped in half. We've only been here for maybe twenty minutes, but it's clearly twenty minutes too long for Eric.

"Blythe," Eric's father tries to diffuse the situation. When he has her attention, he throws her a stern look and a thin smile. "Pass me the pepper."

She hands it to him wordlessly, not bothering to notice he's only eating a dinner roll.

"You're putting a lot on the line for her," Blythe holds my stare, but she's speaking to Eric. "My son has chosen to prioritize you over his own family."

"Stop," Eric snaps, and I can feel the anger radiating from him. He presses his fingers to the glass in front of him, and it looks like he's contemplating throwing it at her. "I didn't come here for a lecture from you."

"Blythe," Daniel barks her name, and his tone changes. He looks like Eric, his jaw tensed and his stare furious. "Now is not the time. They're here to see Everly's father. You can grill him about your sister later. I told you she's been – "

"It'll never be the time, will it?" She turns to face him, and her anger toward me is momentarily forgotten. "When Daniel? When is the proper time? When he gives up completely because Everly asks him to?"

I don't know what she's talking about, but her eyes flash as she glares at her husband.

He doesn't answer her.

The waiter brings our food to the table, and I'm grateful for the interruption. The plates are large and filled with rather extravagant portions. My steak seems to be as big as an entire half of a cow, and I wonder if I'm expected to eat all of it. The waiter also brings a salad, mashed potatoes, and he unnecessarily refills my water before leaving.

"Well, enjoy," Eric's father announces, and he looks just as relieved as I feel.

"Have you ever had a steak before?" Eric's mother watches me stare at my food, and I blink in surprise at the question.

"Um, yes. I have." I'm slightly taken aback; I'm not sure if she's implying I'm a vegetarian –which looks like that would be annoying to her, or if perhaps someone from Amity would not typically be lucky enough to enjoy such a meal. "It looks very good."

I try to sound sincere despite her very apparent dislike of me, but my words do little to appease her.

"You don't find eating meat to be a violent act?" She pauses as Eric cuts into his steak with a vengeance. His motions are filled with annoyance, but despite this, he comes off oddly elegant. "Most of the subjects from Amity have a rather strong aversion to the slaughter of their animals for dinner. They find it rather…savage. Perhaps that's why you're leaving the faction?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eric snarls. He sets his knife down forcefully, and his father's face turns panicked. "What are you trying to get out of her? Is there an actual point to this or are you just going to make snide remarks the whole dinner?"

Daniel's expression changes to disappointment. It's hard to tell if it's at Eric's outburst, or Eric's mother's commentary. I sit up straight, not willing to slump beneath her harsh stare, and I pick up the heavy knife. I make an attempt to cut into the steak, but I have no real appetite now.

She's made it perfectly clear she doesn't want me here.

Blythe makes a face as though Eric is ridiculous. "Don't be rude, Eric. I was just asking your little girlfriend if she eats meat. That's all." She waves her fork at him, and she shakes her head.

"She's not my girlfriend," he answers through gritted teeth. "She's-"

"How far along is she? Eight weeks? Ten weeks?"

I drop my knife.

It clatters onto the plate so loudly the restaurant falls silent. I pick it up quickly, and I can feel the heat of everyone's curious gaze in my direction. "I'm not…I'm not pregnant." I half whisper this, forcefully, and look right at Blythe. Her smug expression barely moves, not even when I stare at her with a look of total disbelief. "Why are you saying that?"

"I see no real reason for Eric to bring a girl from Amity to live with him, unless otherwise. You can offer him nothing. He's supposed to marry someone who can support him as a leader. I don't see you doing anything but getting in his way. The only reason he'd bring you to live with him is out of obligation." There's more than a hint of bitterness in her words, and a flash of triumph. "He had better options before you."

I don't have any words.

I slide my stare over to Daniel, unconsciously hoping he'll stick up for me, and his eyes meet mine. He looks apologetic, but ultimately, he stays silent.

Maybe he didn't really like me, either.

"So, how far along are you? Are you sure it's Eric's?"

For a few seconds, I'm unable to speak. I look at everyone but Eric, who's gone dead silent.

"Blythe," Daniel finally drags his stare from her, and utters the lowest, thinnest offer of peace in my direction. "I'm sorry, Everly. Please…she doesn't mean…"

"Please, Daniel. Don't make excuses. Give me one good reason he's with her. You said yourself you were surprised to hear the girl who had his attention was from Amity," Blythe shrugs, like she can't believe the audacity of her husband to try and calm her down. "What on Earth could she possibly do for him? She's been a distraction since day one."

Daniel leans back in his seat.

He looks at me again, his mouth slightly agape, then he closes it and shakes his head.

The nausea comes back. It's so strong I can barely look at them.

"Um, well…it was nice to meet you, but I think maybe I should go." I push my chair back, and I absolutely refuse to break down in front of her. She's made it very clear she doesn't think too highly of me, but I don't have to sit here and take it. "Thank you for inviting me and uh, thank you for helping my father. Enjoy your dinner."

"Everly," Eric says my name quickly, and he shoves his seat back, too. He stands, drawing himself to his full height. His stare is livid, but only his father looks bothered. "I hope you both got what you wanted from her. We're done here. You'll leave us alone."

He reaches for my hand, but I move away, unwilling to be around this family for another second.

I didn't fully expect Eric to never speak to his parents on my behalf, but I certainly didn't expect for his mother to outright hate me. I thought his father liked me well enough. I guess I was wrong. Maybe I wasn't what they would hope for in a future daughter in law, or maybe they were hoping he'd marry someone more prestigious.

The words about someone better before me hurt. They make my stomach tighten, especially when I think about Ashley and how she certainly isn't better. She's a terrible person, but because she's from a faction they respect, she's a better choice.

"It's okay. Have a good night."

I leave without looking back.

Eric catches up to me in a single step, and he grabs me. He yanks me against his side, and his fingers dig into my ribs, pulling me along with him. He's silent; there is no apology from him or an explanation, but I don't know if it would make anything better.

He walks quickly, half dragging me through the restaurant. I trip over the laces on my shoe, and he catches me, pulling me into the freezing air without ever stopping. It's shocking. It slaps at my face as I turn around to look up at him, and his eyes are wild.

He takes my face in his hands, hot and burning, and he shakes his head.

Behind him, there is a scuffle and yelling, and the fallout of chaos is nothing more than the waiter running out to ask if we wanted our food to go then retreating back inside when he figures we don't.

Eric looks right at me, his grey eyes burning with rage, and his fingers slide into my hair.

They curl in, sinking into the dark strands before he shuts his eyes and he sighs in pure frustration.

"I'm sorry."

He throws his jacket with wild abandon.

It's unlike him. It falls to the floor in a crumpled heap but he makes no move to pick it up. He reaches for the collar of his shirt, and his fingers dig into the fabric in a violent manner.

Our ride back to Dauntless was silent.

I sat beside him, my feet pulled up beneath me and my skirt pooling over my legs, and the truck was freezing. He was silent. He stared straight ahead, one hand clenched tightly on the steering wheel and one on me. I leaned into him, knowing if I were to reach up to touch his skin, his neck would be burning hot.

I sunk a little closer as he turned, and he barely registered that I was against him.

He stared ahead, vibrating with explicit rage.

He's not much calmer now.

"I thought it would go better than that. I should have told you my mother is loyal only to her sister. She takes me not working for her as a personal insult."

"I thought you did work for her," I watch him rip the shirt off over his head, and the bare skin of his chest is pale in the dim lighting. "You told me you…"

"I hunt Divergents. I have power here because I agreed to help her. That's how it started. You…your name is on Jeanine's list." He's frantic, worked up at the very thought. "I haven't been helping her. I passed it on to Jeremy for a while, then pulled our help back when we found out Evelyn was building an army. Jeanine is losing focus. We have a real problem with the factionless, but she doesn't see it."

"Does your mother know I'm on that list?" I stare up at him, still reeling from the dinner. I hadn't expected such a brusque reaction from his parents. His father had seemed nice enough, though he'd made it crystal clear he still sided with his wife. "Does she –"

"No."

He snarls the word at me, and he kicks off his boots without looking down.

"It's alright. I probably should have just gone home. It was nice that you took me to see my dad. I'm sorry the dinner didn't go well. I was hoping maybe your mom would like me after." I rise up from the bed, and I stop before him.

The night explodes in my mind. I force myself not to relive it, because it was so bad that I'd rather sit and hang out with Carole than Blythe. What Eric is saying only makes things worse. Knowing my name was on his list isn't a huge surprise. I had a feeling Harrison had left the notebook with the percentages because he wanted me to find it. I took it as a warning. So far, I was the only one with any variance of divergence. It could mean nothing, but hearing Eric admit all this doesn't feel good.

"Everly…" His expression is miserable. There's a flicker of defeat mixed in with his rage, and he's uncomfortable. It looks like he doesn't know what to think, which doesn't sit well with him. "It doesn't matter. I don't need either of them. I don't care about either of them. I have..."

He pauses as his hands grasp me, and I willingly close the distance between us. His hands move to my back, sliding up until they rest beneath my shoulder blades, and he watches me.

I have my answers right then.

This is way deeper than Eric arresting me just so I could come see if I liked Dauntless. This is Eric, wanting me to stay with him. It's Eric wanting a relationship, though he can't admit it out loud because he's never needed one before. It's Eric, moving to touch my jaw, prying it up so he has my full attention.

All because of one encounter.

One collision igniting something neither of us were prepared for.

"You."

His mouth crashes into mine, something burning behind his action. He moves quickly –to my cheek, my jaw, my neck, the juncture of my shoulder –before he drags his mouth down to my collarbone. His hands move freely, grazing my ribs, yanking at the fabric of my dress, pulling it up. It takes a single second of disconnect for him to pull it up over my head. His fingers return immediately, fumbling with the clasp on my bra and undoing it before he throws it to the side.

He reaches for the button on his pants without pause. The room becomes a blur around us. He strips away the dark clothing as I step back to sit on the edge of the bed, and my back hits the mattress before I can register he's taken off his pants. Eric hovers over me, but I'm crushed beneath him, pressed back into cold, clean sheets.

I was right.

He is hot.

My hands find his shoulders, skimming down over warm skin until I can feel the muscle tense then relax. He shuts his eyes when I touch his ribs, hidden beneath taut muscle, and his head dips toward mine. We stay like this for a moment. I relish in the weight of him, how this feels safe, how he feels safe, and the familiarity of his legs touching mine. I slide my hands lower, until they reach the waistband of his boxers, and his cheek presses against my own.

"You don't ever have to see them again."

His declaration is a good one. It's a heavy promise, though at some point, I'm sure he'll admit he's saying it because he firmly believes in faction over family, but his spoken words have weight to them. He doesn't need his parents. He doesn't need a father who devoted his life to helping others nor did he need a mother whose disapproval was vibrant and cutting. His transparency over the situation is obvious, just as obvious as when my own underwear is discarded, and Eric pushes inside me before I can point out I haven't gone to see Arlene.

Eric has chosen me, and he will continue to do so.

"Did you like him when you were little? Was he around a lot?"

This time, the bedroom is downright freezing. I should have asked Eric to see if the heat worked. I'd forgotten all about it in favor of curling up against him to sleep, and I would gladly take him keeping me warm over electric heat.

But now, in the blistering early hours of the morning, I realize it was a mistake not to ask.

"No."

I don't know which question Eric is answering, only that he is. He's lying on his back with one arm above his head, and his stare is turned to look at me. I've propped myself up on his chest, and since I have the upper hand –literally –I figure I can get away with asking him a few questions about his parents. Our dinner with them wasn't that long ago, and it still didn't sit right with me. My mother would call it morbid curiosity. I'd already learned firsthand what they were like, but I still wanted to know more.

"Which one are you answering?" I wiggle myself closer to him so I can inspect his face. I touch his neck first, the black blocks neat and clean, then his jaw. I follow it all the way over to his ear, then back down his cheekbone.

He lets me.

There's a lazy satedness to him allowing me to touch him like this, and his smirk tells me if it were any other time, he'd swat my hand away.

"He was never home. He worked constantly. He still does."

Eric's answer is even and tightly spoken.

He stares at me as I move to touch his lower lip, then I turn my attention to his eyebrow. I touch the metal bar, one of many that I'd caught sight of, and I wonder if he's ever taken it out.

"What about your…Blythe?" I'm careful with how I say her name. Calling her his mother doesn't seem right. They don't seem to have any sort of relationship, let alone one of mother and son. "Was she around?"

"No, she was not." He exhales heavily, but it's not aimed at me. "They both prefer to work. Blythe hired a woman to step in while they were gone. Pamela was the only one ever home." His answer is unimpressed. Eric reaches up to move my hair out of my eyes, and he keeps his hand there. "Before you ask me, she still lives in Erudite. She calls every so often."

"Oh," I take this in, trying to imagine a stranger coming over to raise my brothers and sisters. I can't. I can't imagine my parents not being around, even if it wasn't always happy. "Does she know I'm here?"

A beat passes between us.

He looks up at me and it takes him a second to nod.

Well, that's a surprise.

"Does she like me? Or does she think I'm awful?" I touch the skin beneath the bar, then above it, and I move on to his earlobe. I've seen all of these piercings before, but this time, I'm not rushed. "Are you sure this doesn't hurt? How do they get it through your ear?"

He smirks again.

My fingers touch the black ring and it's startlingly heavy.

"You want something pierced?" He quirks an eyebrow at me, moving his hand to touch my earlobe. His action shifts the sheets, and neither of us move to fix them. "I can take you. There's a guy who does them. Some people handle it better than others."

I shake my head no. The thought of jamming a needle through my skin isn't appealing at all.

"She's fine. She's not like them. What about you? Do you miss Amity? Zander?" He tilts his head slightly, and his gaze is hot. "The great chicken murders?"

I blink in complete surprise at this question. He watches me carefully, his lips turning up as I think this over, and he waits to see what I say.

I miss Zander, sure. But being with my little brother without a break isn't something I want to go back to.

"Sometimes. I don't miss watching him all the time. But…he's a good little brother. He could be worse." I smile when Eric rolls his eyes, because he's received the brunt of Zander's affection during his visit. "I couldn't believe they were here."

"Your mother has been here before," Eric throws out casually, and he snickers when I whip my gaze back to him. "Don't look so surprised. She should have told you to run and instead she practically offered to let you move here after a week of knowing me. Most mothers in Amity wouldn't approve of any of this. Or any mothers for that matter."

"Yours doesn't approve," I answer before I can stop myself. I wait for him to get mad or snap that he was well aware, but he nods. "Why?"

He holds my stare. His eyes are icy, sort of stormy and swirling with grey and blue, and his eyelashes are unfairly long.

"She's not wrong. You are young," he pauses when I scrunch up my nose, and he raises both eyebrows right as I move to tell him he's older than I am. "Despite being incredibly intelligent, Blythe doesn't care. She doesn't love Daniel and she doesn't care about anything other than how it looks. She married him because it looked good. She had a child because it looked good. Me not helping her sister doesn't look good, so she's blaming you."

"Am I to blame?" I wonder aloud, and he moves his hand to press flat against my face. He shifts slightly, but his stare answers my question. "Oh, so I am. That's good. Great. I had no clue."

"I skipped the last meeting I had so I could make sure you were alive," Eric retorts, grazing my lower lip with his thumb. "There is no doubt Jeanine went to Blythe asking where I was. Going to Amity isn't an acceptable answer to either of them."

"So what now? What happens next?" I move closer, and my hair skims his chest. In the distance, there's a low hum, and then a louder vibration as his phone rings. "Who is that? It's two in the morning."

I push myself up so I can look at the phone, and he turns to grasp it with one hand. I don't catch the name, but he declines the call immediately.

"It's Daniel. He's been calling every half hour." Eric waves me off, and he tosses the phone back onto the nightstand. "You'd think someone so smart would get the hint."

"Are you going to talk to him?"

My question is not at all a question. My voice wavers, not ideal in any way but completely unavoidable, and I hope he doesn't answer the calls. I feel a little betrayed by his dad, and not just because I'd met him at the market and talked to him there.

Because Blythe had treated me like garbage, and anyone else would have stood up to her. Even by Erudite's standards, the unspoken ones where they viewed themselves as more sophisticated and elegant than every other faction and not rude and obnoxious, she was out of line. The waiter had looked more apologetic when he ran out to find Eric and me, and I feel incredibly stupid to have thought his dad liked me.

I guess this is my lesson: not everyone in the world wants to be my friend, and I have to be okay with it.

Even the man who could have potentially been my father in law.

Eric sits up. He shakes his head, and his lips brush against mine lightly, then firmer, until I part them open for him.

"No."

"Okay, let's do this again. When was the last time you had sex?"

Arlene is less intimidating this time. It might be because it's just her and me. Eric hasn't come down here with me today, and instead has gone into work. I'd sat on his bed watching him leave with a scowl, and he promised he'd be back for lunch.

He was promising a lot of things.

He kept declining his father's phone calls. He held onto me all night, my back against his chest and his arm thrown over me. And at some point, still early but also later, I was on top of him, groaning his name for the millionth time. It was like he was determined to undo the rage and anger from dinner and replace it with something that felt good.

And it had felt good.

Really good.

By the time my thighs tensed up and my eyes were slipping shut, he was already lowly hissing my name as his own release hit him. I should have climbed off of him, but his hands were on my hips, and he made no attempt to move me, other than once I collapsed onto him and could barely mutter that I was officially tired.

He made me breakfast. I woke up to him leaving, but he told me there was toast and eggs waiting for me, and he'd be back sometime in the afternoon. He even promised we could go to Clyde's. I thought about this while I ate my toast on his couch, catching up on the book I'd been reading, and I decided I was fine with that plan.

I then took a quick shower, got dressed, and headed straight to the infirmary. Dauntless was still a bit of a struggle for me to figure out. The walkways made no sense. The hallways often collided, and I was left turned around and hoping to catch sight of one of the archaic maps. Today's journey was easier since I practiced it in my head. Walk to the elevators, push the button, push a button for the third floor, then go left. Head down the hallway, past the chasm, past the entryway to the mess hall, and eventually, I'd find the infirmary.

Luck was on my side to discover that not only did I know where I was going, the lobby was empty.

"This morning."

I answer brightly, and her expression is identical to Eric's the first time I crashed into him.

"This morning?" She repeats, and she doesn't move. "You're here to start birth control but you had sex this morning?"

"Oh, do you need the exact time? I think it was eight thirty." I look down at my shoes, this pair pretty and shiny and easy to kick off and on, and her stare is incredulous. "Do you want to know when we finished or when Eric –"

"No!" She barks the answer, then presses her fingers to her temples. "That's not what I meant. I just need to know when the last time you had sex was. Not the exact minute."

"Okay, well no one in Amity is ever this specific. Look, I just came down here because…last time I was here, I left before I got the shots. And I still don't want them. I just want the one for birth control. So…just let me have that one and I'll be on my way." I cross my arms over my chest, and Arlene's expression doesn't change. "Can I not get it?"

"No, you cannot. Not until I'm sure you aren't pregnant. Does Amity offer any sort of sex education?" Arlene opens the folder, and she begins to write frantically. She becomes quiet, and she only looks up when I don't answer. "No?"

"Sometimes," I shrug, wondering just exactly what sort of education she was hoping for. "One time May showed us all how to use a condom. But Carole got mad and said it was a waste of a banana and then Jerry got involved and somehow someone stepped on the banana and then it was over. I don't think anyone learned anything there."

Arlene looks at me, and my chance of having any sort of cool reputation here withers away completely.

"Wonderful. Okay. I'll be back. Don't leave this time or I'm sending Molly after you. Do you understand?" She warns me darkly, but she leaves without waiting to hear my answer, and she slams the door behind her.

I sit there patiently, examining the ancient medical poster on the wall, and I wonder if the uneasy feeling in my stomach is caused by any of the ailments listed. Or the box marked sharp objects. Or the poster of someone's brain, bisected to reveal all kinds of tissue and nerves.

The feeling doesn't go away when Arlene returns, and in her hands are all kinds of things.

Including a startling number of empty vials.

"Before I can have you start anything, I'm going to run a few tests. Once I have the results, you can start the birth control. Until then, you and your…" Arlene's pause is smug this time, and she smiles at my chart. "Husband can use condoms. Or abstain altogether, if Eric can last a whole twenty-four hours."

"He's not my husband. He's my…" I look at the chart, too, and it does say Everly Coulter. "That's not my last name, either. My last name is Carlen."

"It's too late to change it now. And what else do you think he is? Your emergency contact?" Arlene does her best to keep a straight face, and she gestures for me to roll up my sleeve. When I do, she tears open a strong smelling packet, and wipes my arm down with the cold disinfectant. "I've known Eric for a long time. No one here has his last name except for you."

"Do you know his parents?" I watch closely as she tears open a new packet, and my eyes widen as I realize she's about to stick me with a needle. "What are you doing?"

"Have you ever had any sort of medical exam? This is routine. It's a blood test to see if you're pregnant. It's more accurate than the others. It'll just take a second." She doesn't like when I recoil, but the needle in her hand is larger than I would expect. "Two minutes, tops. Once it's in your arm, you won't even feel it. I'll fill a few vials and you'll be on your way."

"You promise?" I eye her warily, and I hope she's not lying to me. "It won't hurt?"

Arlene meets my stare, and she smiles brightly.

"I promise."

Arlene is a complete liar.

I sit with my cheek pressed against Eric's dark jacket, and every so often, my eyes burn all over again as the tears threaten. His uniform jacket is rough but comforting. His breathing is even, slow and restrained, and in front of me, Arlene is as apologetic as the porcupine Forrest once stepped on.

"I said I was sorry. I didn't think she'd panic. It's just a simple test."

I scowl at her from the safety of Eric's arms. He's sitting on the table so I can sit between his legs, and his arm is around me. It's both protective and to make sure I don't fall off the table, and when I shake my head, he exhales in annoyance.

"Why did you take so much blood? What the hell are you testing her for?" He sounds grouchy, and that is entirely my fault.

Arlene slid the needle in my arm while she was talking, and it hurt more than I was expecting. When she didn't like where it was placed, she shoved it further into my skin, and there was a spark of burning pain. In response, I jerked my arm away, which sent a lovely spray of my own blood everywhere.

Arlene's look was impatient.

Once I calmed down and she wiped up the mess, the second arm was better, but she took so much blood that I started to feel woozy. The room grew hot, the floor seemed to move up and down, and the next thing I knew, I was against Eric's chest while he yelled at her.

He darkly informed me I'd passed out. That was a fun and exciting twist to my appointment, and his mood soured further when she barked that they were all necessary, as was not having unprotected sex for the next few days.

"It's the full panel. All members are required to have it. If she's going to stay here, then she needs to have it done so I know what she needs," Arlene hotly informs him. "You are aware of this. You've had almost the exact same one done. You also were the one to insist all initiates get tested to make sure there are no issues."

"She's not an initiate. Those tests are to make sure the initiates aren't sick. She's fine. You could have taken one vial and that's it," Eric snaps. "She's not sick."

He shifts on the table, pulling me closer when Arlene narrows her eyes.

"Oh no, she's clearly doing very well."

"I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to pass out," I offer, but I have zero energy. She'd brought a few things: a sugary drink, a cookie I didn't want, and a banana that I absolutely could not bring myself to eat. I drank the soda and had a bite of a cracker someone dropped off, but I mostly listened to Eric snarl about Arlene being in his business.

"You're not the first and you won't be the last," Arlene answers, but to her credit, she looks sort of stressed. "As soon as she feels better, you can take her home. Make sure she eats something and have her lie down."

She writes on my chart again –probably something like, passed out while giving blood, chance of being an actual member here 0 –then stops when Eric sighs.

"Arlene –"

"I'll have the results back to you by tomorrow morning." She pushes her glasses up higher, and her stare flicks to me. "Take it easy for the rest of the day. Both of you. I'll call as soon as I have results."

"Thanks," Eric mutters, and his arms press closer. "Now leave. You can text me the results. Don't bother calling."

She throws him a dirty look as she leaves. She takes my folder along with her, and we're both quiet as she heads through the door and calls out for someone to process the paperwork for her. I stay there against Eric, not willing to speak.

Hearing I'd passed out was mortifying.

After everything I've been through, having some routine bloodwork was what sent me over the edge. I try to give myself some credit, and I decide maybe it was the stress of everything that's happened and it had finally caught up to me. Whatever the case may be, Eric isn't bothered.

He nudges me with his knee and asks if I'm okay to walk home.

I say yes, because the alternative is staying here and risking having Arlene come back.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

This time, we watch TV on his couch. His feet are propped up on the large ottoman in front of him, and my legs are curled against his. My head is on his chest, my arm is thrown over him, and his fingers are sliding through my hair lazily. Every so often, his fingers still. He's searching for an imaginary bump, like the last time I hit my head, and when he finds none, he continues on. The feeling is soothing, so soothing I'm about to fall asleep.

He doesn't care.

We'd eaten dinner on the couch, some lasagna he'd ordered and a large, oversized order of ice cream, and then he'd turned on some show. It was the same one he was watching when I'd stayed with him the very first time; the people in the office are panicked about being laid off, and the boss's moronic antics only make it worse.

Right as they start yelling about some secret alliance, my eyes start to feel heavy.

"I'm fine. I feel really stupid that I passed out. All I remember is she said it wouldn't hurt, and it did," I answer lowly, and he shifts closer. His shirt is warm, the dark fabric softer than I would imagine, and he pulls me further toward him. It's subtle and quick, and it's only so I can more or less lay on him. "The next thing I knew, you were there."

"They called me out of a meeting. I've never heard Arlene sound panicked," Eric answers, and he sounds smug at the very thought. It appeared that here, Arlene is the only one who has some authority over Eric. "She's called a few times since we got home."

"Are you going to answer her?"

"No."

His says this with a heavy exhale, and I have to admit, this is far better than raising chickens or trying to figure out how to grow tomatoes. Eric's apartment is somewhat warmer; I wouldn't say it's not cold, but it's not freezing. I wonder if he's keeping it cold so I'll have no excuse but to stick close to him. I don't mind. It's surreal to see him like this: dressed casually and with bare feet. He's large and intimidating, except for how he doesn't want me to leave his side. He keeps his body primed toward mine, and his attention to the show wanes when he realizes I'm falling asleep.

And when everyone starts talking about finding a new job.

"Do you want to go to bed?" He asks lowly, and his voice is rough. I can't imagine he's ever been in this situation before, and for once, neither have I. "Everly? Are you asleep?"

The incredulousness in his voice is funny. It reminds me of when I fell asleep in the truck, and he let me stay there, sleeping against his shoulder until the very last second he could stay in Amity.

"No," I lie, and I laugh when he lets out a huff of exasperation. "Okay, sort of. I'm just tired because Arlene took all my blood."

"Well, it was that or your soul. I'd say you got off lucky," he retorts. I feel him reach for the remote, and the man squawking on the screen about a beet farm is gone. "Come on. You can sleep in tomorrow."

He sits up carefully, and I lift my head from his chest to look at him.

He looks down at me, and it's as far from cold as one could imagine.

His lips turn up the slightest bit, and for a long time, neither of us move.

Tris does not like me.

For the second time this week, someone's stare at me is heavy with disbelief and more than a little horror. She stares boldly, her grey blue eyes sweeping over my dress, my hair, and lingering on my face. She sits stiffly; her posture is less confident than the night I saw her at the Leadership Dinner, and more unsure.

Everything about her reads as uncomfortable. When she reaches for her drink, it's awkward, and when she reaches for her fork, she misses it because she's staring at me.

I smile, hoping whatever she's not sure of isn't me, because she's Christina's friend.

This lunch was her idea.

A few hours ago, Eric left for work, but not before handing me my phone. My eyes widened when I realized he had it, and I was sure it was lost. But there it was, with hundreds of messages, mostly from Rylan, and a new one from Christina. She was just as excited through text as she was in person. She asked if I could meet her for lunch, and I immediately accepted.

I had no clue she wanted me to join her so I could meet Tris. It didn't take me long to see the two of them are close; I felt a spark of both jealousy and homesickness. I missed my own friends so much it was overwhelming, but I was hopeful I'd make friends here. I had no intention of returning to Amity, though I did hope I'd see Sophia and Courtney at some point. It would be nice to tell them what was going on and reassure them that I was safe.

Until then, I was going to try and make some friends here.

Which was proving harder than I thought.

"So uh, where do you work?" I take a bite of the macaroni and cheese, happy it's not awful. While Quinten was very nice, his job was to feed the faction. Fine dining classes aside, I imagine it was hard to come up with enough meals to feed the faction day in and day out. "Do you like Dauntless?"

Tris presses her lips together.

She's not entirely unfriendly. The longer I sit here, the more I realize she looks worried. It takes her a long time to answer, and when she does, it's slow and undecided.

"I work in the control room. It's alright." Her pause is loud. "I'm sorry, this is really weird. I'm not trying to be rude, but…I was assigned to watch you for weeks. It's just…seeing you in person is way different."

"You were assigned to watch me?" I freeze with my fork halfway to my mouth, and Tris' stare falls to my arm. The sleeves on this dress are short, shorter than is acceptable for such a cold faction, and she frowns at the giant bruise on my arm. I discovered it last night while I brushed my teeth, and Eric promised it would go away quickly. "Why?"

"Because Eric wanted everyone making sure you were alive. I watched you and your little brother. I watched the guy attack you." Tris looks like she's said too much, and she glances nervously at Christina. "Jeremy…he told me you'd been attacked a few times and no one believed you. He's been going there to help with finding Evelyn."

"I was," I try to swallow down the noodles, and they stick in my throat. "Eric was the only one who looked out for me."

"Really?" Tris' response is flat. "Eric? He was looking out for you. That's…interesting to hear."

Just like the dinner with Eric's parents, I can feel this one heading south.

Unlike the dinner with Eric's parents, someone sticks up for me.

"Tris, chill. I already told you, this isn't the Eric from our initiation. He's spent weeks making sure Everly stayed alive. Rylan said his whole focus has been her. You just said yourself he had you watch her."

"Chris, he stole her from her faction! Four said –"

"Four is one wrong step away from getting kicked out. You told me you weren't listening to him anymore!" Christina looks mad now, and she slams her fork down. "We talked about this. You decided you wanted space. You said you're happy with Jeremy and you hadn't seen Four in a long time."

"I just…I saw him the other night. He stopped by the control room to talk to Kacie," Tris protests, and her posture changes. "I did want space from him. It didn't end well."

"Wait, did you date…him?"

She looks at me, and something clicks.

It's like she realizes this world is new to me, and I'm about five thousand steps behind everyone else here.

"For a while. He was really intense. He didn't think I could stay alive for three seconds without him. Sort of like Eric thinks about you. Except…Eric had reason to be worried about you." She sighs, and the hard edge I was met with softens a little. "I don't have a very high opinion of Eric. But…if you're happy here and you're…safe with him…then um…"

She stops and Christina and I both grin.

Tris is so flustered by the thought that Eric wasn't trying to kill me that she can't finish her sentence.

"I think the Eric I know is not the same one you do," I offer, swirling the macaroni and cheese around. "I know Four, though. Well, I know him as Tobias."

Tris shuts her eyes. She inhales slowly, then opens her eyes to look at me.

"I can't imagine spending ten seconds alone with Eric. But…if Christina says you're happy, and you say you're happy, then all I can say is welcome to Dauntless."

She smiles.

It's not at all thrilled, but it's much friendlier than it was when I got here.

"Thank you," I smile back, and Christina looks ecstatic. This lunch so far hasn't gone exceptionally well, but it's a start. "How long did you and Four date?"

Tris' smile wavers. I don't know if I expect her to answer or pull an Eric and refuse.

Eventually, she does.

"A few years. It started out okay, but he was convinced he knew better no matter what was going on. He didn't like that I picked the control room, and he begged me to move out of the first apartment I had to live with him. When I found the idea suffocating, he acted like I said I never wanted to see him again."

"Is Jeremy better?" I think of what I know about Jeremy, but it's limited at best. "I've only met him a few times."

"Yes," Tris answers immediately, but it sounds like she's trying to convince herself. "He's fine."

"Fine?" Christina repeats, and she makes a face. "You said he proposed last week and you turned him down."

"I told you before, I don't want to marry him. Not now," Tris rage whispers, like someone is listening.

No one is.

The mess hall, while busy, is large enough that all the members are spread out. No one is really near us, and the closest person is Quinten, refilling the salad. He catches my eye so he can wave, and I wave back. He looks much happier after this important interaction, then returns to counting croutons.

"You don't want to be married?" I sip my drink while she shrugs, and she looks past me. "Never?"

"I heard you're married."

Her words make me choke on the drink. I cough most of it up from my lungs, and she looks horrified.

"Everly! Are you okay? I'm so sorry. I just…Jeremy told me Eric is married and was having a fit because someone referred to you as his initiate. I was there with him when he was getting some paperwork in the administration office, and he was really impatient that they had your last name right."

"As his?" I flash back to the file in Arlene's office, and I wonder if Eric ever planned on confirming this. At lunch the other day, Rylan had hinted Eric and I were already married, and Eric hadn't answered my question about it. "I went to the nurse and they had my last name as Coulter. Arlene said it was too late to change it."

Tris and Christina exchange a look.

"I told you. She's really nice and you're going to learn all sorts of stuff about Eric. He sent me to pick out her clothes. He's not messing around." Christina sounds triumphant, and her stare whips to me. "Is he good in bed? Everyone wants to know. Tris was worried he'd hurt you."

"I was not! I've never once wondered what Eric is like in bed," Tris is immediately defensive, and her cheeks turn red. "I'm sure he's…whatever."

"So you have thought about it?" Christina asks cheekily, and she's delighted by this discovery.

"No, oh my gosh, no." Tris shakes her head.

I can't help but crack up at the horror on her face, and it worsens as she looks above me.

She snaps her mouth closed and pushes her chair back. "I have to go."

"Why? We aren't even done eating!" Christina turns, and her eyes widen, too.

"Hello."

Eric's voice is immediately recognizable. He's right behind me, and his fingers graze the soft fabric covering my shoulder blades. The dresses in the closet all have a definite style, and it was one which hinted he'd had enough of covered up jackets and edgy, revealing styles meant to announce how daring someone was. Everything purchased for me were things I'd readily wear, and most definitely sweeter than what everyone else was wearing.

"Are you having a good lunch?"

He doesn't sit down. He eyes the food on the plate in front of me like he doesn't trust it, and he stares down Tris for a few seconds. Then he smirks, and slides into the seat next to me.

"Hi Eric," Christina says his name pointedly, and Tris stays silent. She finally conjures up a polite nod, and she returns to her lunch. "I thought you were in a meeting."

"I was," he answers coolly. "I came down to find Everly. We need her upstairs."

"For what?" Christina asks before I can, and I turn to glance up at Eric. His leg is pressed against mine, and his uniform is so stiff looking it appears sharp to the touch. "We just sat down."

Eric smiles. His fingers touch mine, skimming over the knuckles and pressing over the one closest to my pinky, and he waits until I'm looking at him.

"We found Evelyn."

Four does not look well.

He stands in a line with Jason and Rylan, and compared to their buzzy, infectious energy, he's miserable. His eyes are tired, his hair is messed up, and his jacket is unbuttoned. It's not the leadership jacket everyone else has on, but a dark, worn one that's similar.

"You found her?" I walk with Eric, my hand in his, and he doesn't let go. He holds on even tighter as we come to a stop in front of everyone. In the background, Harrison and Tori are deep in discussion, and Max is walking with Jeremy. He looks in our direction, then gestures for everyone to head to the conference room. "How?"

"I found her in Abnegation. She's agreed to talk and potentially turn over the army, but she wants to talk to us. Specifically, you and me," Four answers, and his words are unhappy. "I'd like to point out, I'm the only one here who doesn't think this is a good idea."

"Why would she want to talk to me?" I glance up at Eric, and the look on his face tells me he doesn't entirely think it's a great plan. "What can I help her with? You're okay with this?"

"No, I'm not," Eric cocks an eyebrow, but he's oddly not at all stressed. "I'm fine with it, because I don't think she'll follow through."

"Is there a plan?"

Eric doesn't answer right away. He looks over his shoulder, and he nods right as Harrison finds him.

He looks different now. The Dauntless side of him shines as he instructs a few others to follow him. I don't know any of them. They are all soldiers here, sharing the same uniform and serious expression, and they all work for him. Each one has papers in their hands, and the same short haircut or severely pulled back hair.

"Hey, everyone in the conference room, including all of you. We're ready." Harrison doesn't look at me, not entirely. He gestures to those waiting, and everyone takes off, including Rylan and Jason. Eric lets go of my hand to answer his phone, and the only person who hangs back is Four. He waits for me, and I notice his eyes have dark circles under them.

He catches my stare, and he shakes his head before gesturing to the conference room.

"There is a plan. It revolves around you."

Amity is freezing.

I walk along the snow covered path and I try not to shiver. Returning here feels cruel. Almost as cruel as the howl of the wind, and even crueler than the surprised glances thrown my way. The faction is quiet, reasonable given it's right after dinner time, and dark. The sun has already started to dip below the tree line, and the lingering light is dim at best.

It all feels ominous. The twilight casts an eerie glow over everything, and it makes the banks of snow luminous.

"Are you okay?"

Four glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and both of us are dressed in clothes that could pass for either faction. Eric had given me his heavy jacket to throw on over the dress, and Four's jacket is now zipped up. We walk closely, having been given strict orders to stay together, and he slows down every time I stumble over the slicker parts.

I had thought Eric would refuse this plan altogether.

It wasn't what I was expecting.

After hearing Evelyn was in Abnegation, I assumed we would be going there. To my complete surprise, Four was being sent to Amity, and so was I.

Evelyn had not yet given up on wanting Amity for herself. She was doing her best to regain the footing she'd lost, and my bet would be she was hoping to convince Four and me to call off the search for her.

Harrison remained unimpressed. When Jeremy pointed out they had Colton in custody, and could easily ask him, Harrison spoke up to remind Jeremy that Colton hadn't been with the army in forever. They went back and forth, Harrison's expertise winning over Jeremy's naïve enthusiasm, and ultimately, it was reluctantly agreed I'd go along with Four. Eric was silent, and the look on his face grew more and more furious as the meeting went on.

He snappily pointed out I'd done my part to fend off Evelyn's army, and Max insisted this is why it would work. Evelyn had watched her army try to take me down, and my survival would piss her off. They hoped to find out what she wanted, then they'd ambush her.

It was unlikely she'd assume we were there alone, but it would buy them a few minutes they didn't have before.

"Everyone knows Eric took her out of Amity. Won't Evelyn be suspicious?"

Jeremy had an answer and a question for everything. I tried to figure out if this was his plan, or he was working to help solve this case to prove himself here. He reminded me of Four at first glance; they both had brown hair, they both had the same build, but Jeremy was brash. He was quick to announce what he was thinking, and not at all afraid to throw out his opinion. He came off as ambitious, but every so often, there was a glimmer in his eye that made me nervous.

From what I'd witnessed, Eric liked protecting what he believed in, and his duty to the faction was clear. Jeremy seemed trigger happy. Just waiting to attack, always ready to barge in with guns blazing. As the meeting went on, I slowly put together he liked this plan. He was banking on a theory that Evelyn wouldn't believe I was a threat to her because I no longer lived in Amity. Showing up with Four would lead her to think I'd come to talk, and she'd ignore the fact that there was an army behind me, or that the Dauntless faction was now overseeing Amity in hopes of convincing one of us to side with her and call off Dauntless.

I didn't love the idea.

Colton's attack had happened while Zander and I were together, and there were Dauntless soldiers patrolling the faction then. I still wasn't entirely over having my life threatened every few days, especially by him. He was terrifying in a way that told me he wasn't afraid of anything, and I was only alive because Dauntless got to him in time.

Evelyn wanting to meet with me sent a chill up my spine.

"No, I'm not okay," I look up at him, his expression is wearier than usual.

"I figured," he mutters, and he shakes his head as I pull Eric's jacket closer.

When Eric and I had parted ways back in Dauntless, it hadn't felt good. He held onto me until Four announced we had to leave, and his fingers dug into my waist. He dared someone to stare or critique his goodbye, and though I hadn't been with him long, his possessiveness was intense.

He almost refused to let me go. His hands tightened when I sunk against him, and I let my head stay against his chest while he snarled at Four not to turn the truck radio off for any reason.

"I want to go back home." I keep my voice low, and it's a strange feeling. My home isn't in Amity anymore, and even though I'd hadn't been in Dauntless for long, every part of me ached to return there.

The clothes don't help. The jacket smells like Eric, and he'd given it to me once I was in the truck. He softly told me he'd be not far behind, but that didn't dull my nerves at all.

It felt like I was being sent somewhere terrifying. The last time I'd been in Amity, it wasn't Amity. It wasn't even Amity now, because it still had no official leader. "I don't think we're going to find her."

"We will. They're meeting tonight. Fifteen minutes. We're going to head that way and see if we run into anyone."

His plan is not a good one. I loathe it on every level. I dislike the cold, I dislike trudging through snow, and I dislike heading straight toward an army who wanted me dead.

The only reason I agreed, was I felt like this might solidify my place in Dauntless. If I could prove I was brave enough to pull this off, to face Evelyn or whoever else showed up, I might not have to worry that the Dauntless faction would question why I was there.

So, I agreed.

Eric's murderous look wasn't enough to win over anyone else. The decision was officially mine, and he had no choice but to promise he'd be right behind, making sure nothing went wrong.

Which would have been great if Four had stuck to the plan.

"Are you trying to kill us? You told Eric we were going to the Dome." I glare at him, and he glares right back.

"No, but she's not going to be hanging around the Amity faction. That might draw some attention to her." Four sounds pissed off, and I feel a flash of sympathy for him. I wouldn't normally. This whole ordeal hadn't gone well for him, but he's been sent back and forth to see Evelyn multiple times now. "I have minimal contact. She doesn't trust me, remember?"

"I met Tris," I change the subject completely, figuring I might as well talk to him about this now. Walking toward the dark woods makes my stomach drop, even though it's familiar. "Christina introduced me."

"Why are you telling me this?"

His question is immediate and sharp and he's not happy. I don't know why I'd think he would be, but I wanted to stop talking about Evelyn.

"I just thought you might want to know. She didn't seem to like me at first. Or that I'm there with Eric." I pull the jacket tighter, and I hope Eric isn't far away. "I told her not to worry."

Four is quiet. He checks his watch, then sighs. "I'm sure she'll like you. And anyone with a brain should be worried you're with Eric."

"You keep saying that, yet here I am, with you, going to find Evelyn. Why did you ever want to help her in the first place?" I stop talking when the playground comes into view, and there she is.

In the distance, standing right next to the swing set, like she owns the place.

"Fuck."

My words echo into the darkening night, right over to her.

Beside me, Four shakes his head.

"I can't even begin to tell you."

She and Four look the same.

Their stares are both intense, betrayal heavy from each side. The irony of this is both of them are at fault. Evelyn, for starting all this, and Four for going along with it. He's gone against the Dauntless faction in an attempt to make her happy, and she's used him for her own gain.

As we walked over to her, Four gave me a terse explanation as to why he'd gone to see her. The gist of it was she'd abandoned him. He quickly explained she vanished years ago, leaving him in Abnegation to fend for himself. There was more to this story than he was telling me, but he went on to say that when she reached out, he saw it as a chance to reconcile. I put this together with Tris saying they'd broken up some time ago, and I assumed he'd agreed to help because he had no reason to be in Dauntless.

It was like me wanting to leave Amity.

I'd stayed because I felt obligated, but I had nothing going for me. I had a man who wanted to kill me, an entire army hovering in the nearby woods, and my future holding only the promise of eventually settling down with the first person who showed interest because I had no one else. I understood the bleakness he must have felt, and the agony of knowing not a single person understood what you were going through.

I hadn't lived his life, but my last few weeks in Amity proved that none of us were supposed to go against the grain. Making waves was frowned upon, especially if it hurt the peace.

Evelyn had the right idea about things needing to change, but she was going about it the wrong way.

"You're late."

She channels another vile woman I've met recently, and her gaze is as chilly as Blythe's. It scrapes over both of us, only lessening slightly when Four reaches her first.

"We agreed to meet as soon as I could get here. It's not easy to leave Dauntless these days," Four lies carefully. We'd left without much trouble; our drive here was quick, and now there is a neat line of Dauntless trucks just hovering at the outskirts of Amity. Some were probably inside the faction already. But they were watching him, now more so than ever. "I brought Everly. Tell us what you want."

"She doesn't live in Amity anymore, does she?" Evelyn steps closer to me, staring me down like I'm the reason this whole war hasn't panned out. "How did he take her?"

"He arrested her for attacking Landon. After you sent him to attack the Amity faction," Four's exasperation is hard to miss. "I asked you to slow down with your plans. You're getting ahead of yourself."

"I have an army. A faction is simply the next step," Evelyn counters, unbothered as ever. "Amity is the smartest move. It's large, the population needs a leader, and the food supply is here. It makes sense to start everything where I'm standing."

"They don't want you here," I cross my arms over my chest, and I've forgotten how terrible she is. The memory of her is bad enough, but in person, she's even worse. "What makes you think you can just take a faction over?"

"I'd be liberating them. You, yourself, didn't want to stay here. Why should everyone else subscribe to this way of life? Oppressing people to force peace isn't the answer."

"Every faction has rules," I start to speak, but she cuts me off.

"Each faction breaks the rules so they can enforce the ones they want. You were taken by a man from Dauntless. You have no right to live there with him. Erudite creates serums that can wipe a faction out, just because they can. They pick and choose who to help, who's worthy of their services. Candor hides all sorts of rules and scandals, all to make themselves honorable. They pride themselves on honesty, yet they're selective with what they tell us. Abnegation values service to others over individual lives. Imagine knowing that violence is acceptable so long as it's not seen."

She moves closer, and I step back before I can stop myself.

"None of the factions are what they appear to be. Dauntless works to control the others. Eric and the others don't protect the factions, they keep them separate."

I bristle at her bringing up Eric, because it feels like she knows just a little too much.

"You think he's wonderful, don't you? You must feel like he rescued you from your wretched life in Amity. He won't be able to keep that façade up for long. There's plenty you don't know about him." She pauses, and her hands move to her pockets. "Including why he wants you."

"What could you possibly know about him?" I silently try to hint that Four should step back, but he doesn't. He moves closer to her, almost coming between us, but she pushes him away.

He stares at her in surprise, but she ignores him to look at me.

I stare back, refusing to let her get to me.

"Why would I believe you?"

"You don't have to believe me. He'll end up showing you. Ask him if he enjoys ransacking Abnegation during his hunts. Ask him if he remembers the names of the people he's brought in for testing. Ask him what his answer was when someone pointed out you were on his list." Evelyn is triumphant, even as I shake my head.

"He already told me," I answer, not entirely a lie. I'd heard him talk about the Divergents before, and I knew he was hunting them. I also knew he'd lost interest in the project, and he'd been vocal about how much he wasn't helping Jeanine.

There is a small chance this isn't true, but I trust him.

I don't trust Evelyn.

Especially when she thinks she's caught me. She smiles, but I'm prepared when she charges toward me with something in her hand.

"Let's see if he likes you when you don't remember him."

Her words are wild. They are hissed as she tries to grab hold of me, and something in me snaps. I've had my fill of anyone thinking they can put their hands on me because they want to. I've had my fill of people believing they are in charge of my life or thinking I'm a pawn in their game.

"NO!" I whirl away from her, and I manage to knock her back. She's tall, but not as strong as one would expect. There's a fragileness to her that comes from having an army do her dirty work, and a brittle snap when Four takes hold of her arm.

"You promised me…"

I don't know what she promised him, because his roar is drowned out by her wrenching away from him. To my horror, she reaches out to grasp a fistful of my hair, and I'm jerked backward.

My heart nearly stops.

I've been here before.

The feeling of being overpowered is familiar. The sounds are the same –Evelyn howling my name in a voice I don't recognize, and Four desperately yanking her back –as is the sensation of fear. Panic. Sticky hot terror as something grazes my neck, and I realize she's trying to inject something into my skin.

No.

I turn frantic, scratching and clawing her hands away, and there's a familiar pinch. She lets out a shrill demand for me to stop, ironic given she's stuck the needle into my skin. I rip it out to an unpleasant feeling, and I stand there in total shock. A second later, it's yanked from my fingertips, and she jams it in as hard as she can.

"Everly!"

The blood drips down my neck slowly, more from the action of me pulling it out than anything, and I'm frozen in place when I hear Eric yelling my name. He's late, too late, and in the dark, I can hear the soldiers running. Their boots thump over the ground like thunder, and there's a tremendous wave of energy as they fan out.

They're all too late.

My vision grows blurry for a moment, but I see the slightly younger version of myself in this situation with Landon. With Colton. With Landon, again, determined to ruin my life. That Everly had fought back, and so will this one.

"Leave me alone!"

I lunge for her, knocking her back and not at all caring that this wasn't my war to fight. It never was; however, I was brought into this by Landon, sunk so far into Evelyn's plans that it now felt like it was my war. I wasn't going to sit idly by while she ruined my life, or anyone else's. I slam my fist on the side of her head, and she rears around like a wild animal.

Behind her, Four stumbles to the side, his actions slow and clumsy as he tries to figure out what's going on.

"He'll never love you. Don't you dare think you need to fight for him. Eric will ruin you. He'll—"

Her last words are spoken darkly, thick and forceful, but they become incomprehensible when she slurs them. The bang is so loud it feels like everything is happening a second after it does. I watch her stand up straight, then collapse as a dark pool of red blossoms from her chest. The second shot is equally loud and equally quick.

When I turn, I see Eric sprinting at me with his weapon drawn. There is a sea of black behind him. Soldiers I don't know coming in waves, led by Jason and Rylan. Both look unsurprised; Jason runs faster, and Rylan's eyes widen only when he looks past me. Behind them, are Karl and Jake. A row of girls I don't know. Harrison, screaming at a section of initiates to keep up as they participate in both keeping their initiation, and keeping the factions safe.

This is a real-world lesson for them, one that is startling.

"EVERLY!"

Eric yells my name this time, desperate and impatient. He aims the gun to fire at Evelyn again, but there's no need. Years of practice have given him the lethal precision he needed to kill her, and she collapses to the ground gracelessly, groaning as her eyes close.

"Are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

His hands find my face, rough and hurried, and his eyes are wild. He's so livid I almost don't recognize him. He's not the Eric who hovered over me while his teeth sunk into my neck, but an Eric who almost lost everything. His hands search quickly; he frowns when a few fingers come away with a print of red, but it's minimal at best.

"What did she do to you?" His words are a hiss. His grey eyes steel impossibly further, and his lips press together. His fingers on me tighten, verging on painful, and he swallows thickly. He searches my face for recognition, and I grasp onto his shirt.

My palms press flat, and he's warm even in the cold night.

"I'm…I'm fine, I think." I slide my hands up so I can throw my arms around his neck. My fingers touch deceptively soft hair, grounding me to him, because he's here. He's safe and real and solid, even more so when he tilts his head to look down at me and his stare is familiar.

"Did she inject you?" His words are low, and in the background, I hear the faint sounds of Rylan yelling Four's name louder than necessary.

"I don't think so. She tried to, but I got it out in time. What was it?" The panic rises right back up, but it wanes when Eric slides one arm around my waist. The other snakes up so he can touch my neck again, and he chews on his cheek for a second. "Eric?"

"I'm assuming it's what they injected your father with," he answers tightly, and his fingers curl into my back. "I told Max this was a stupid idea. I told him…. I told him –"

"Eric!" Jason interrupts, and he comes to a crashing halt like he wasn't just a few feet away. "We have a problem."

"I don't care," Eric barks, and he makes no move to let go. If anything, he pulls me closer, and I have the feeling I'm never leaving Dauntless again, no matter the reason.

"Okay, well you might care. You have to come over here." Jason is insistent. He gestures for Eric to follow him, and he throws me a quick smile. "I'm glad you're okay, Everly. They kept telling us to hold off, and then all of a sudden things went wrong. Harrison is livid. He wants the head of whoever gave those orders."

"They came from the control room," Eric answers, but he's paying no attention. "What the fuck is Rylan doing?"

"Eric…shit, what do I do? No one trained me for this!" Rylan yells Eric's name, and I let go to turn and see what he's talking about. I'm rewarded with Rylan walking over to us with Four, and Rylan's arm is thrown around his shoulders. He makes him walk forward, but Four keeps looking back, hesitating and trying to go back to Evelyn, and he only looks at Eric and me when Eric growls his name. "Yeah, so that normally would work but…uh…."

Rylan pauses, and he gestures to Four's neck.

In the very same spot where she'd tried to stab me, just a little more forward, there's the same bloody mark. I wait for Four to announce he's fine, that he did the same thing I did and yanked it out in the scuffle, but he doesn't.

He stares at Eric and me for a second, then he forcibly pushes Rylan away from him. His glare is irritated, and I feel a wave of horror as I realize a few things.

The first is that his mother isn't moving.

The second is that Four is staring at us, unblinking.

"Four?" Eric cocks his head, and he takes a slow step forward. His fingers linger on me, silently coaxing me along with him.

Four takes one step toward him, and he eyes him up and down. He glances at me, then Jason, then Rylan –busy whispering oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck –and he finally shrugs.

"Why are you all calling me that? What's going on here?"


	23. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks to those reading and especially the ones who reviewed! You are awesome!

Arlene doesn't know where to look.

Her stare goes back and forth between Four and me, the group of leaders filling in every inch of free space behind her, and every so often, over to Eric.

He looks smug. He stands beside me with his arms behind his back, watching intently as a young nurse takes Four's vitals. She frowns when he tries to move away, and he shakes his head when she asks if his head hurts. He's not so much refusing to be seen in here or trying to avoid treatment, he just doesn't know why he's been brought into the infirmary.

He also doesn't know what Dauntless is, or why every leader dragged him deep beneath the faction the second we arrived back.

"How tall are you?" She blinks up at him, pausing to clutch the paperwork to her chest. Her name badge reads Stella, and she's so quiet it's hard to hear her. "Are you alright? Are you dizzy? Are you having any blurred vision?"

"I'm fine. I don't know why this is necessary." Four crosses his arms over his chest, and he looks petulant as ever when he glares at us. "I don't know what's going on."

"That's for sure," Rylan snickers, and he only stops when Arlene glares at him. He starts up again when she turns away, and he resumes trying to listen to his own heartbeat with the medical equipment she'd already told him to put down. "We should tell him his name is Frank. Since he doesn't remember. Frank, hold tight. We'll be done soon."

"I know what my name is," Four snaps, leaning back and he tries to push the nurse away from him.

Stella has already wiped the blood off his neck, and the only telltale sign of his memory loss is a tiny mark. She glances at it and looks over at Arlene with obvious concern.

"Do you want me to call Neuro? I don't have anything here that will help him. We could try giving him some of the antivirals and hope that maybe it triggers something. Or I can put a call in to Erudite and see if they have something that works."

Arlene glances over at me, and I wonder if she knows about my dad. Right before I can tell her Daniel said something had worked, she steps forward and plucks the paperwork from Stella and demands we all leave.

"I have a few things we can try. If Evelyn made the serum, we don't know what's in it. We'll start with bloodwork. Four, I need your jacket off. The rest of you can head out or wait in the lobby. Does he have an emergency contact? Or a responsible party?" Arlene looks at all of us, silent and close together as Rylan manages to knock the magazine rack off the wall, and no one says anything.

Jason finally clears his throat, but only when Four looks at him expectantly. "Uh, I don't think he does. Someone can maybe try to get ahold of Tris but…"

He throws a furtive glance over at Jeremy, who throws an evil stare right back at him.

"Actually, someone call Zeke. He'll come get him."

"It'll be a minute anyway," Stella insists, and she sort of reminds me of Tris. Though she's much friendlier, even if she is quiet. "If you'll leave Zeke's number, I'll call when we're done."

"Uh, I'll find it," Jason offers, and he grabs Rylan to pull him out of the office. "We'll be back. We'll fix the rack, too."

"Don't bother. Rylan has an appointment in a few days. I'll just leave it down until I'm sure he's not coming back. Ever," Arlene answers dryly.

"Are you…banning me from the infirmary?" Rylan laughs, but he's shoved forward by Max, darkly informing him to behave.

Arlene waits until we start to file out before she turns to talk to Four. I hear her tell him this should be fine. There is a good chance the serum isn't permanent, but he doesn't know what she's talking about. He sits there silently, and I trip over Eric's boot when he stops to tilt his head toward Arlene. A look of recognition flashes across his face, quick and fierce.

His grey eyes find mine as his hand flies out to steady me, and his voice is low.

"Did you ever….?"

I shake my head no.

My time in the infirmary had come to an abrupt halt once I passed out, and Arlene hadn't called me to follow up. She must not have called Eric, either.

"I can get it soon," I promise, and I slip my hand into his.

His nod is tight but telling.

He leads me out of the infirmary silently. Despite having killed Evelyn, Four losing his memory, and me being safe, his shoulders slump down further with every step we take.

"Eric, do you want a baby?"

I watch as Eric pauses taking off his jacket, and his eyes darken at my question. He's momentarily caught off guard, but it's gone just as quickly as it happened.

"No." He shrugs the jacket off, but his stare stays on me. "What would I do with a child?"

That's a very good question.

He'd eaten with Zander, once, and looked uncomfortable for most of it. There is nothing about him that screams father material, almost everything suggests otherwise. Raising a child here would undoubtedly be violent and strange. There are no sunny fields. No lakes to swim in. No friendly neighbors to help out, or farmers willing to let you take a lazy tour of their fields because you are bored. There are wide open spaces here, but also a chance you'd fall into a great abyss if you got too close.

Not to mention, Eric's job is to lead his faction to protect others. I could only assume any child of his would be expected to follow in his footsteps, and would have extreme expectations placed on him or her. The thought of Eric with a tiny baby is laughable, even now, as he blinks at me.

The room is quiet except for the sound of his phone ringing. He ignores it in favor of tilting his head to examine me, and his stare is piercing.

Being in the infirmary brought up more questions than it did answers. Not only could I assume Evelyn had injected Four with the same serum Landon had used on my father, but it begged the question of how to treat it. Daniel had treated my father's memory loss, but would Erudite be willing to share their treatment with Dauntless? Could someone demand they do? Eric's father was worried this might become an issue, and this proved there was potential for him to be right.

Or would Eric refuse just because he hated Four, or claim this was his punishment for betraying the faction?

I couldn't decide. He hadn't really brought it up to me, and while I didn't know Four very well, I was secretly hoping Eric chose to help him.

Being down there with Arlene also reminded me that I hadn't gotten any test results back. I was expecting her to stop me, but Arlene hadn't brought them up at all.

Not that she had a chance.

Eric and I left the minute she shooed us out to help Four, and our walk back to his apartment was quiet.

Now, as I sit here on his bed, I figure we might as well talk about this. Eric didn't like talking about anything, but he's smart enough to know that at some point, we'd wind up having a child if we weren't careful.

I just couldn't figure out if he actually wanted a family, or he was lusty over the idea that this was permanent. His own family hadn't been, but he and I could have something together. I could see it every so often; he looked at me with a desperation he didn't know existed in himself. It was the same way I didn't believe anyone would ever listen to me, or care that I existed past being a member of Amity.

"I never heard back from Arlene," I glance up at him from his bed, sunk against his black pillows. We'd been back for a half hour now. I got ready for bed, he made a million phone calls. Some were quick –barked orders at a squad to stay where they were –and some were not quick. The one with Harrison was the longest. I was disappointed as ever to overhear Harrison was staying in Amity for an undisclosed amount of time, though I understood why. "Did she call you?"

"No. I assumed she didn't have the test back yet," he answers easily, and he reaches for the collar of his t-shirt. "Why? Are you sick? Do you not feel well?"

"Other than nearly having my memory erased, I'm good," I sink back further, and the look on his face tells me he knows I'm probably not great.

But I am.

In a way, I accepted what happened. I had willingly agreed to go with Four, and I had been determined to prove to everyone I could stay here. I knew when I saw Evelyn it wouldn't be good. I knew she wouldn't be happy with how things were going, and while her death wasn't what I was expecting, it had brought some closure.

I wouldn't spend my days wondering if she was coming to hunt me down, and I wouldn't have to worry about what she was planning on doing in Amity. I didn't have any ill feelings about what had happened; she'd screwed me over, she'd made Landon into a complete monster, and she'd treated Four like garbage once he wouldn't help her. She didn't deserve the ability to ruin anyone's life, and now, she couldn't.

Justice, though dealt in a bittersweet way, had been served.

"I'm….that's not what I meant. I'm… sorry," Eric forgets his shirt, and he's over to the bed in a single blink. He's on the bed before I can tell him he doesn't have to apologize, and his lips touch mine before I can tell him what I really want to know is when Harrison will be back. "I thought I was too late. I thought she injected you when I saw you pulling the syringe away. If she had, you wouldn't have a clue who I am."

"I think I would have figured it out," I mumble against his lips, and I feel them turn up. I dig my fingers into his hair, slipping them past his warm skin and warm shirt, and I urge him closer. "Eric, is my last name really yours? When did we get married? Did we have a big wedding? Or is that just in Rylan's game?"

"Define big," he retorts, and he takes my lower lip between his as one palm presses to the side of my face, hot and rough.

"I have to tell you, I thought Jeremy's plan was stupid from the get go. I found it…suspicious," Eric lowly informs me, and his weight is heavy over me. It's a funny feeling, though pinned beneath him against inky sheets where I've only slept for a few nights, he's safe. There's a comfort to him, like he's strong enough to keep harm away, and determined enough to do it.

"I told Max I didn't want you to go. But you said yes," he drags his teeth across my skin, sinking them into my neck until I squirm. "So I didn't have a choice but to let you go."

"I thought it would help me here. This way, everyone would know I belong in Dauntless," I confess, my eyes closing as my fingers tighten. "No one could say I should go back to Amity or –"

"That's none of their business," Eric says, and the words are lost against my skin. He pulls away suddenly, the cold violent and rude after he was so warm, and he looks down at me. "If anyone has an issue with you being here, they can come talk to me."

He stares for a minute without saying anything.

One of his hands moves to rest at the base of my throat, lightly skimming over where Landon had once held me down. He stays there, looking at me like I'm some lovely creature and not some random girl from Amity, and he answers my questions without speaking.

I am most definitely Everly Coulter, and we are most definitely about to celebrate our marriage, even if he couldn't admit it.

In the morning, I catch sight of myself in the mirror.

It's enough to make me stop in my tracks. I'm stunned to find that I don't resemble the girl from Amity, not one bit.

Sure, I look the same on a basic level. But here, deep beneath the darkness and hidden far beneath the Earth, I look like someone else. My hair is wild. Blacker than usual and a mess of wavy, tangled pieces roughed up by Eric's hands. My lower lip is swollen from where he'd bit it, having not wanted to say goodbye before he went to work and instead kissing me until he was late for work. My skin is paler, less sun-kissed and closer to the stark pallor hidden beneath Eric's uniform. My eyes look brighter, happier, and the bruises are almost gone entirely.

The mark on my neck from Evelyn is so faint I can barely see it. It's concealed by the slow, lush bites from Eric, and the way he'd hovered over me.

There's also the nightgown.

It's black and silky, and something someone far more confident would wear. Except that today, I find it suits me.

I stare for a second longer, wondering how on Earth I ever could have stayed in Amity.

Things happen slowly.

It's like time comes to a crawl once Evelyn's death is officially announced. I watch Eric make the speech alongside the Dauntless faction. It's an interesting experience; I garner a few stares, but almost everyone is welcoming. I stand with them in a black dress, staring up at him, as he sharply informs the faction Evelyn has been officially declared dead. Her army, not quite the rag tag team of factionless they'd assumed they were, have been given a few options.

One is to disband and resume being factionless. Dauntless is willing to overlook their actions so long as they admit to their wrongdoing, agree to not form another army, surrender their weapons, and receive a tracker.

Two is to stay in Dauntless custody. They can await a trial by Jack, something which Jason groaned would be worse than death, or admit guilt and work off their sentence here.

The third, and what was quickly becoming the most popular, was to join the Dauntless army. There was some hesitation over this one, considering inviting them to fight alongside the very people they wanted to destroy was dangerous, but it came with an alluring offer: they would share their secrets and fight with us, and in return, they would be given a place to live and routine meals.

The idea that bare, basic necessities would win them over made my chest hurt, but Jason pointed out some of them weren't the most upstanding citizens. Some weren't good people at all, but most were. So when almost all made the choice to join Dauntless, he looked happy, and I felt better when I learned their low ranking position here didn't make them actual members of Dauntless, but allies.

Once this announcement was made, Quinten scowled at everyone from the alcove he was standing in, and I knew he was calculating how he was going to stretch the meals to feed a hundred more. He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged at me, and we both knew this would either be what the faction needed, or a complete disaster.

It still felt better than life in Amity.

I spent the next few days with Eric, on his couch, with my head on his chest. There was no official announcement of anything more than he was tired, and Jeremy was sucking as a leader in training.

I half listened.

My head felt exhausted even though I wasn't doing much, but I was trying to stay productive. I was often still in bed when Eric left for work, and it wasn't long before I discovered Eric had a cleaning lady, one who came routinely. I bumped into her while she was walking down the hallway to the guest room, and she cheerfully told me she didn't need help.

She enjoyed her job. She washed his clothes, and mine, and folded or hung them up. She made his bed. Brought me a drink even though I told her I was fine. Rearranged his books. Brought up a pair of boots he'd had fixed. Put away his groceries. I watched her from the couch, while I finished the first book I'd found on Eric's table. She smiled at me while she worked on his already spotless kitchen, and I sat there wondering if there was another book in the series.

There was.

She brought it to me when she noticed I was done, and cheerfully informed me she'd be back in a few days.

I held off on the book, but mostly because I wanted to save it. Instead, I had lunch with Christina, wandered around the stores, slipped past the guy eyeing me from the tattoo shop, and tried to memorize the layout of Dauntless. I secretly hoped I would run into Harrison, perhaps back for a meeting or something, but I never did. The closest I got was Rylan, dangling his legs over the chasm and calling me over to come sit by him.

I joined him without question.

The sensation of being up so high was terrifying. I'm not afraid of heights, but with nothing but rushing water and the force of the intense spray, it felt like the whole thing might collapse. My time at the chasm only lasted a second. I swear Rylan barely said my name before Eric sent me a text message, and it was straight to the point.

GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THE CHASM, EVERLY.

I read it, then smiled at the sheer romance of his words.

He must not have appreciated my brave act of sitting there. His second message was the same –EVERLY, YOU'RE GOING TO FALL. DON'T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE –followed by a sweet reminder that we had plans for lunch. His crankiness continued up until now, when he sighs as the boss of the office fumbles some big meeting, and his boss looks like she might murder him.

Eric moves his head from side to side until his spine cracks, then he relaxes. "Did Arlene call you?"

I glance up, startled. My eyes had been closing on their own, heavy sleep daring me to get really comfortable against Eric's chest, and it takes everything in me to look up at him.

"No. Did she call you?"

Eric shakes his head, and lowly informs me she's been busy and we'll probably hear from her soon. He snickers when he says this, and I watch him sit there smug as ever, while he explains what's going on.

Turns out, Four is a crappy patient, and very unwilling to do anything Arlene asks.

Eric took great joy in this, along with Jeremy's failure to progress as a leader. When I listened to Eric talk about him, I sometimes got the impression that no one in this faction would ever meet Eric's standards for being a leader. They were extremely high, and despite him confessing he'd been given the position because of outside influence, he took it seriously. Even Jason and Rylan, with their goofing off or their far less serious attitudes, were expected to keep things in line. My thoughts on this are interrupted when Eric's phone rings again, and he reaches for it, because he has to.

It's Daniel.

Eric eyes the phone with disinterest. There's no hesitation in his decision to decline the call, but I feel something tense when he tosses it aside.

He doesn't say anything.

He pulls me closer, shifting me so I'm almost covering him, and he returns to watching an entire office freak out at the thought of losing their jobs.

In the earliest part of the morning, so early that I can't believe Eric is even awake, he less than gently shakes my shoulder and asks if I want to go running with him.

I blink at the shirtless blur before me, and he smirks in faux encouragement.

He must be joking.

He'd told me it was snowing last night. That meant it would be absolutely freezing, and only someone insane would choose to rise before it was light out and want to run through the streets. I wait for him to tell me he's kidding and he's going to slide right back beneath the covers, but he brightly informs me he thought I might want to go with him and he bought me some running shoes.

I scowl into his pillow, and I shake my head no.

Eric leaves, sulky and insulted that I don't want a healthy dose of hypothermia this morning, but he touches the side of my cheek before he leaves and reassures me I can go another day.

I laugh myself back to sleep, though it only takes me a few seconds before I dream of him, smiling at me warmly from across a hospital room.

In the late afternoon, I run into Tris.

I continue my inability to see anyone by physically running into her. She was heading around the corner with a look of mild panic, and it grows worse when she sees it's me. I was paying no attention. I was busy thinking I could grab a few muffins and go upstairs, when I walked right into her. Her yelp was more out of concern that I was okay, and she immediately took five steps back.

She looked…distraught.

Her blonde hair was a mess, her eyes were dark, and she looked like she'd been up for five days straight. After a second of silence, I asked her if she was okay, hoping she was.

Her answer was silence, followed by one very quiet, almost inaudible, and incredibly heavy no.

Turns out, the complicated life of one Tobias Easton, heavily involves Tris.

Even with their breakup and separation, it's more complex than it seems. I figured this out while Tris and I walked; she stuck close to me, and the unfriendliness from before was replaced with pure anxiety over a situation that's out of her hands. It only took us a few minutes to be away from the main part of the faction, and I prided myself on not getting lost while she quietly told me far more than I ever could have imagined.

Their relationship might not have ended well, but it was obvious, at least to me, that neither of them were over it.

Hence, her refusal to marry Jeremy.

And his refusal to enjoy life.

"Does he remember anything yet? Or what happened?"

Now, in the cold and quiet, I pull my feet up beneath me, and Tris sits down on Eric's couch like it's a trap. When nothing happens, she relaxes back further, but she's still cautious. Her stare flits around the apartment. She eyes everything greedily, taking in each detail like it's a secret that's been revealed. Her inspection pauses at the hallway, and I wonder if she wants to see his bedroom.

He'd probably get a good laugh out of that.

"Eric isn't here. He's in a meeting until five," I reassure her, and I only know this myself because he sent me a message explaining this. He actually wasn't even in the faction. The next text said he was in Candor, the third and seemingly final text said he'd see me for dinner. I sent back a message asking if he wanted me to make something, and he very quickly told me no, he only had so many pasta noodles and he didn't want me making enough to feed all of Dauntless. "You saw Four, right?"

"Zeke came and got me," Tris answers miserably. "He said they called him, and when he went down there, Four didn't recognize him. He refused to go anywhere with Zeke, and no one knew what to do. Zeke came to the control room and asked if I could help. Arlene mentioned she's calling Erudite today, but she didn't sound hopeful. I guess something happened…. something about their serum shipments going missing and Dauntless not helping the way Erudite wanted. Everyone seemed really irritated and Four is just…he has no idea what's going on."

"Did you take him home?" I reach for the blanket I've brought out here. My theory about the heat not working was correct; I'd checked it earlier, and it said off. I didn't know how to turn it on, so I had no choice but to find a blanket in the hallway closet and try to stay warm. "I saw Evelyn inject him. She tried to do it to me, too."

"I know he felt awful she was coming after you," Tris answers lowly. "He told me a few times he'd asked her to leave you out of it. The guy…Landon…he was the one who wanted you involved. Four didn't think it was right. He said he understood why she wanted change, but it got messy before he could control it."

I stay quiet, and I pull the blanket up higher.

"Four…he didn't mean for any of this to happen. But he shouldn't have been helping Evelyn and this seems like payback for going against the Dauntless faction. I did take him home. Arlene thinks he got a low dose, and they're hoping it'll just wear off. She said the problem is, they won't know what's in it until they get the results back and he got really upset when they tried to do the bloodwork." Tris says all this slowly, pausing to look at me.

Her stare is much kinder now, but visibly stressed.

"I stayed with him last night. He didn't want me to leave," she blurts out. "I didn't tell Jeremy. I just…said I didn't feel well, but I'm sure he knows I was there. I haven't heard from him at all today."

"Do you want me to find out where Jeremy is? I don't really know him, but I can ask Eric," I offer, and I sit up straighter. I decide I like Tris. She might not like me, nor does she have any real reason to, but if I plan on staying here, I hope we'll someday be friends. "You know what? I could ask Eric's dad to help. He might know what to do."

"I don't know who his father is," Tris presses her palms to her eyes, and she swears softly. "Shit. I didn't even tell Christina this. I don't know why I'm telling you. I heard about your dad and I thought…I just…I needed to tell someone and she'll tell the whole faction."

"I won't tell anyone," I promise, and not just because my social circle here is limited to Eric and his friends. "Eric's dad works as a neurosurgeon in Erudite. He was able to help my dad get his memory back. Maybe I can call him and see if he can help Four."

"Do you think it'll wear off?" Tris looks up, and she startles when someone knocks on the door. "Is that Eric?"

"I don't think so," I answer, sliding off the couch. "Hold on. Let me see who's there."

I reach the door before she can respond, and I idly wonder if it's Quinten. I open the door expecting dinner, and instead, I find Rylan, with his hair braided back on both sides. He smiles widely, then looks surprised when he spies Tris sitting there, and his hands fly to his hips as his stare turns accusatory.

"Are you having a party?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," I point to Tris doing her best not to look like she's about to burst into tears, and I stare up at him, shaking my head. "I ran into her in the mess hall. She's really upset about Four so we came up here to talk."

"Yeah, well I'm really upset about being banned from the infirmary. What if I fall down the stairs?" He looks past me, and his insulted look lessens. "Is she alright? I heard Frank was questionable at best. Though Arlene isn't a reliable source of information these days."

"No, she's not. I was thinking that maybe…" I pause when he leans against the doorway, striking a pose for absolutely no one.

"Maybe….?" He looks at me expectantly. "Maybe what?"

"I could call Daniel." I hope he thinks this is a good idea, because my guess is Eric would say it is not.

Especially after the dinner.

"Not for me. Just to see if he can come and help Four. Or you could take Four there. He might be able to give him what he gave my dad." I offer, and Rylan's eyes light up.

"You want me, to take Frank to go see Daniel? I'm in. I enjoy long trips to Erudite under the pale moonlight with your husband's arch nemesis. Frank should be honored."

"His name is Four," I try not to laugh, because Rylan looks absolutely delighted. I also immediately regret asking him, because he's way too enthused for his own good. "You know what? Never mind. I should ask Eric first. He might not want me to call."

"Oh, he's definitely not going to want you to call his father. Not even if Daniel could save the entire world. I heard about your dinner," he whispers the last part, and he drops his head. "I called Daniel after Eric told me about it. He's devastated over how it went. He was hoping he'd get to have you as a daughter in law and maybe get to know his own son, too. For the first time in his life. It doesn't sound like things are going very well in Coulterland these days."

"He was devastated? He just sat there while she came after me!" I blurt out. "Blythe accused me of getting pregnant so Eric would have to bring me here."

"Yeah, I heard that, too. The baby bet is on, but it's not that."

"What?!" I shriek this louder than necessary, and from the couch, Tris lowly asks if I'm alright. Which is too kind, considering she's the one in distress. "What baby bet?!"

"Well, the bringing you here bet is over. The marriage one is, too. He's robbing us of every chance to celebrate, but he can't hide a child. At least not forever." Rylan stares at me, and he dares to glance down toward my stomach. "You don't look pregnant, though."

"That's because I'm not," I hotly inform him, and he shrugs nonchalantly.

"Yeah, well…not that you know of."

"Rylan…is there a reason you came by?" I cross my arms over my chest, and I hope Tris hasn't overheard any of this. "Eric isn't here. He's in Candor."

"Yeah, that's just it. He's on his way back. I'm supposed to come get you and give you a tour of the control room. Then he's taking you to dinner. He said I can join you guys, as his best friend in the entire world. I suppose you could bring…uh…Frank's ex over there."

He smiles over my head at Tris, and she smiles back.

It's weak, but it's there.

"I'll ask her," I pause for a second, and I look back up at him. "Do you think Daniel could help him? I don't know either one very well, but I don't want Tris to be upset. Or Four to lose his memory forever."

"Oh Everly. You're way too nice," Rylan sighs. "Who knows? I'll text him. The last time I called, he was at work, and it sounded like he was avoiding Blythe. I'll make it sound like it was my idea. That's probably the safest option. If Daniel can help him, Eric will make them both sweat until he approves it. It'll be less…insulting coming from me."

"Sounds good."

I smile up at him, figuring this might work even better. There is a large chance Eric would refuse to involve his father, especially considering he doesn't like Four. I don't have any personal ties to Daniel, and the thought of seeing him again makes me queasy.

But maybe Rylan could convince him, and at least we'd have tried.

Tris isn't so convinced.

I explain this as I sit back down on the couch, and she strangely declines to have dinner with Eric and me.

The control room is much larger than I could ever have imagined.

There are rows of countless screens and monitors, dozens of people working, and a few wandering around with coffee. Some are yawning, and Rylan whispers they've been here since early this morning. The others are yawning because they just got here and will work all night to monitor the cameras in each faction.

Most are dressed casually. None of them wear an official uniform, and there's a stark contrast between them and Rylan. One guy waves, his dark shirt and dark pants covered in rips and tears, and he quickly types away on the keyboard in front of him. I watch his screen while I walk along the back row; the visual changes quickly from a forest to the side of a barn, and Amity glows beneath the setting sun.

I wait for the punch of homesickness, but there is none.

Only a strange feeling of finality, like that chapter of my life has closed.

"Why is she in here?"

The blonde woman I've only seen once before eyes me like I have no reason to be here. I don't, but it's unlikely she knows that.

"Protocol. Eric wanted her to see the control room," Rylan stares at her with more authority than one would expect. "Why are you in here?"

"I work here," she snaps. "I've overseen the control room for years. And we don't allow guests."

"Okay, well tell that to your leader. Eric wanted her to stop by here. Chill. She's not taking over your job," he ignores her pressing stare, and turns to wink at me. "Everly, this is Kacie. Resident reptilian and overlord of the control room. She does the scheduling."

He reaches over to sling his arm around her neck, and she shoves him away with pure disgust.

"Funny. I do way more than scheduling. Are you…planning on working in here?" Kacie eyes me up and down before turning to Rylan. "Is she an official member of Dauntless?"

"Oh, she's official," he responds cheerfully, but my attention is caught by the screens. I step away from them to go over to Rylan's friend, and I stand just off to the side. When he clicks a few buttons, I'm rewarded with Harrison, strolling down the pathway. He's wearing his Dauntless uniform, and he waves to someone I can't see.

Zander, also dressed in black, is walking with him.

His hand is in Harrison's and together they head toward the Dome.

"That's uh…rumor is that's his kid," the guy looks up at me, and he throws me a small grin. "I'm Will. I know you're Everly."

"It's nice to meet you," I smile back, and I watch Harrison pick Zander up to show him something in a tree. "Have you been watching him for a while?"

"All day," Will points to a running timeline on the bottom of the screen. "Harrison is their new leader. So, we have to keep eyes on him. He's even got a team there to make sure no one comes after him. It's pretty cool. I thought he'd be working but he's been with the little boy all day. Kinda cute. Kids don't normally like anyone in uniform."

"His name is Zander," I wish I could see them better. Harrison holds Zander up higher, and Zander laughs. "He's my little brother."

The wistful tone in my voice is mixed with jealousy. It's hard to miss how happy Harrison and Zander are, even on a grainy video feed. But a larger part of me is happy, because Zander will get to spend more time with Harrison. Or if everything works in their favor, he'll get to grow up with him.

"Oh, yeah. I know you're from Amity. I had to watch you one day. You and some guy looking at flowers," Will cranes his head back to squint at me, but there's nothing condescending in his tone. "I learned a lot about your water system, actually. I was assigned to you for a few weeks, and your dad. Or…uh, the other dad. Wait, you know about Harrison right? It's a wild story. Everyone was shocked to hear his daughter was coming here. If it's actually true."

"I do know about him. He is my father, but…" I pause, and Rylan must catch the disheartened look on my face. He leaps away from Kacie dramatically, and knocks someone out of the way in the process of trying to get back to me. "…he's gone now. He's in Amity for a while."

"He'll be back," Rylan interrupts, and he crashes into Will before steadying them both. "There's a meeting next week. He'll be here as the representative from Amity. I just learned this today."

"Oh," I perk up, and I figure maybe I'll be able to eat lunch with him. "Well, then I'll see him here. And maybe Zander."

"Highly likely. I'd like Zander to come back, too. I want to show him the shooting range," Rylan thinks out loud, and he elbows Will and demands to know how late he's working.

I turn back to the screen and I watch them move on from the tree. Harrison points out a few things, and Zander is completely engrossed in watching everything he shows him. They eventually leave, and Zander shows Harrison how to run and jump into a pile of snow. We all watch –me, Rylan, and Will –as Harrison willingly follows him.

Watching a leader from Dauntless leap into a snowbank is comical, but it suits him. They stay there, lazy snowflakes falling around them, completely happy and content in the slow world of Amity.

"Trucks three through seven are returning. Clearance approved."

The command comes from one of the computers, small and crackly. My eyes fly to the screen as Will clicks a few buttons, and a different view of Dauntless bursts into sight. I watch the trucks drive up, passing the few waiting soldiers waving them in, and I faintly recognize Eric driving one of them.

He scowls at everyone around him and I can't help but feel my heart speed up at the sight.

"I missed you."

Eric says this against my throat. Both of his hands are in my hair, gently pushing my head back to expose the bare skin of my neck, and he's warm. He's everywhere. His uniform is rough when it touches my bare skin, and he walks us back, right into the jagged part of the wall.

I'd found him a few minutes ago.

Rylan walked me down to the docking bay, and I stood to the side while the soldiers climbed out of the trucks. Eric wasn't the only one returning; the bay came alive with men and women arriving from whatever patrol they had been on. The atmosphere was surprisingly cheerful. It seemed most enjoyed their work, and whatever mission they had been on was successful.

Eric found me a second after he climbed out of the truck. He turned to glance over his shoulder, and his gaze went right to me. He stared unabashedly, slamming the door without looking away, before marching over to me despite someone calling out his name.

Whatever they needed him for –a signature, some approval on something, or maybe even some information he wanted –paled in comparison to him needing to get close to me. A few seconds later, he took me by the hand, and a good ten steps later, his hands sought out my waist and we were cloaked in darkness.

I liked it.

I liked the slow cold that Dauntless held. I liked the way everything felt dangerous, like the rocky edges stabbing into my back and the lack of restraint Eric had. Back in Amity, his self-control was questionable. A Dauntless soldier showing up to visit someone for lunch wasn't unheard of, but it was frowned upon. Our loyalty should have been with our factions. Eric quickly got around this by taking it upon himself to look out for me, and the result was the slow crumble of any lingering walls between us.

I got to see who he was, but also who I was.

And that was someone who was currently being lifted into the air, so Eric has a better vantage point.

"Did you have fun with Rylan?" He's not exactly nipping at my skin, but something sharper and more precise. He's still careful; any mark he leaves is not out of anger or rage, but warm, bubbling lust.

I keep wondering if it will boil over into love.

"He showed me the control room," I try to explain, but Eric is too much for me to focus on anything but him. He's shoved his leg between mine to help me balance, and his hands work quickly to slide beneath the skirt. One reaches my waist, and he pulls me toward his chest while his mouth finds mine. "I saw you driving. How was Candor?"

I use this rare moment of distraction to touch his face. I put my hands on both sides while he kisses me, and I giggle against his lips when I feel him smile.

"Boring."

He kisses me harder, over and over, until he breaks away with a heavy sigh and announces we're late for dinner.

The next few days are exciting.

On a sunnier one, I find myself on the roof, my back pressed against Eric's chest, and his leg between mine. His hands cover my own, and he bends down until his lips graze my ear.

"Shoot whenever you're ready."

Up here, the air is freezing. It's electric, though. The initiation class, now almost done and prepping for their final few weeks, is out here practicing. The girl leading them is loud; she commands them forcefully, but with some exasperation. They are lined up in neat rows, and their objective, barked at them while she walks back and forth to adjust their positions, is to hit the varying targets. Some are farther out than others, and some are way easier, but Eric has only given me one to hit.

The fact that he even brought me up here is crazy.

"Okay," I steady myself, tightening my grip on the cold metal, and I focus on the zombie face before me.

Eric had suggested we come up here this morning. I thought he was kidding. He said it seriously, lacing up his boots with a vengeance and watching me linger by the dresser. He had on his full uniform and it brought a wave of disappointment.

I had quickly learned that when he got dressed, really dressed, it meant I wouldn't see him until he returned home. Our time in Amity was special because he'd carved it out of his day, and he did the same here. But in Dauntless, he was easily accessible, more so because someone usually could find him. He wasn't off in another faction or able to shrug off someone needing his attention. He was here, in his own faction, responsible for what went on.

In spite of all this, I liked him in uniform. It accentuated how handsome he was, and it made him look powerful. Strong.

Invincible.

Like now, as he trained me how to shoot a gun.

"I'm hoping you'll never need to know this, but odds are, at some point, someone will try to kill you again." Eric informs me of this easily. "Harrison and I agreed I'd train you in a few areas, as a preventive measure. Everyone here knows how to use a firearm, so you should, too."

He's patient.

He waits for me to nod, then he brings his arms in encouragingly. I try to remember the instructions he'd given me: steady myself, aim the gun, and shoot before I doubt what I'm doing. This lesson isn't at all what I had been expecting, but it feels fitting.

It feels even better when I squeeze the trigger. I'm immediately pushed back into Eric's chest. The recoil is far more powerful than I had thought it would be, and I'm lucky Eric is behind me. He keeps me upright, and we stare at the target together.

My shot isn't dead center, but it's close.

"Nice work, Amity. You're better than half of Lauren's class," Eric announces loudly, mostly so Lauren can hear him. She whirls around on the heel of her boot, and her gaze is annoyed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Are you and your…whoever she is…done? You're taking up a target I need." She flounces by us with a sneer that would rival Eric's, but there's a flicker of something else beneath it. She eyes me up and down in an attempt to intimidate me, and oddly enough, I'm not.

She looks an awful lot like me.

Like an alternate version of me.

We're roughly the same size. Her hair is dark, not black, but close enough, and pulled up severely. It swings behind her while she walks, and there's an easy authority to her that I don't have.

Not yet, at least.

She's a little stronger looking than I am. Her uniform is leggings and a long-sleeved shirt, and no jacket. She's fit, seemingly fearless, and somewhat intimidating. I still feel like I could take her if I tried. Or at the very least, it would be an even match.

"Who is she?" I half whisper to Eric, leaning back into him while she glances back. She doesn't like this at all. Her gaze is fiery when he snickers, and downright annoyed when his cheek touches mine. "I think she hates me."

"She does," he answers cheekily, and to my surprise, he doesn't say she's no one. "She's the trainer for the Dauntless born. She grew up here, is tougher than nails, and dislikes almost everyone. Harrison is her idol."

"Oh," I fall quiet, because she's sounding like the perfect partner for Eric. "She's –"

"She's a good trainer. That's it. She'd be like fucking a cactus," he interrupts dryly, and he pulls me back a step. "Tomorrow, I'll train you how to fight. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be able to take her. If the need be."

"Good," I like this idea, and he likes that I like it. "Should I shoot the target again?"

"Whenever you're ready. Keep firing until it's empty."

The next few minutes go by quickly. Eric stays in place, occasionally having me move forward or backward. By the time I'm done, the target is riddled with bullet holes, and I have a brand new respect for everyone who carries such a weapon.

"Take a break," Eric throws out, and he answers his phone while I slip away to grab some water. I take a seat on the edge of the roof, one of the lower railings that's wide and a few feet away from the very edge, and I enjoy a few minutes in the warm sun. I take a sip of water while I watch him pace back and forth.

It's a nice opportunity to observe him. Eric is always on alert, always on edge, and it's rare he isn't focused on me. He's busy snarling at someone on the phone, and he talks quickly. Every so often, he watches Lauren's class. He observes them as they change places, now instructed to run and shoot at the same time, and he nods at a few.

I watch them, too.

Most are really good. Some are great. I manage to spy Jake and Karl at the very end, and this is cake for them. They excel as they nail every shot, and they high five each other once they're done.

They even laugh, though only when Lauren is far enough away to not see them.

I fix my hair while the class rotates. I sit up a little as Lauren heads back, and she marches behind the rows, never taking her eyes off them. I think about Eric saying she's a good trainer, and it shows. She offers curt yet helpful criticism to a few and adjusts a few with their stance. They all listen, and I only look away when Eric sits down by me.

"Is this all of them? What happened to the ones who haven't made it this far?" I turn to look at him, and he takes up all the free space next to me. His legs are spread wide, and he nudges my foot with his. "Are they factionless?"

"Most were made factionless. After the Evelyn fiasco, we're toying with the idea of going out and finding them. Tori and I were talking, and we came to the agreement that we're creating our own enemies. If we only accept ten out of two hundred, we have a hundred and ninety trained men and women who don't view us very favorably."

"Would you make them members? Like the factionless who joined you?" I nudge his foot back with mine. The boots I have on are just as shiny as his, and he smirks. "What?"

"In a way," he answers, but he's distracted. "It's a little more complicated than that, but they would live here. We can keep an eye on them, and they'd work for us. It's more to our advantage than anything else."

"Sounds reasonable," I offer, but I know zero about the Dauntless faction and how they run their army. The only thing I do know is the initiation here looks way more complicated than Amity's, and a lot more interesting than learning how to grow lettuce. "Do you want me to practice shooting again?"

Eric looks at me, scooting closer as Lauren throws us a funny look, and he shakes his head.

"I was thinking we'd take the afternoon off."

He takes my hand in his, examining my fingers intently, and he pulls me along as he stands up. We stay in place for a moment. Eric watches Lauren's class with faint approval, until they cease fire. Once she informs them it's time to switch, he tightens his fingers through mine.

Oddly enough, his stare isn't on Lauren, or even the initiates looking back at him.

He's staring at Karl, with a hint of something I don't quite get.

"How are you feeling?"

Four and I sit outside, on one of the lower roofs. I like this space; it's been made into a dining area of sorts. There are dozens of tables, a tiny café offering small bites like chips and salsa and salads, and plenty of soldiers milling around. Some are fixing the umbrellas over the tables, all black and worn looking, and some are practicing walking along the raised edges. The snow fall has let up for now and the air holds the promise of respite from the flurries.

It feels amazing. The ground is cold and wet, and the air is icy, but there are plenty of fires roaring. Back in Amity, we'd have bonfires going, and here, they are in empty, rusting trash cans. The effect is the same: the roof is warmer than expected, and it's drawn out everyone craving fresh air.

Four eyes everyone around us warily, and he winces when someone walking along the railing stumbles, nearly falling right off into nothingness.

"I feel fine. How are you?" He looks back at me, and his stare is blank.

This is totally expected. After a few days spent with Arlene, it was officially confirmed he'd been given a hack dose of the memory loss serum. His own mother had chosen to stab him with it, and that pissed me off more than anything. I knew little of their situation, but I couldn't wrap my head around anyone feeling like they had the right to mess with someone's mind in such a permanent way. Arlene had given Four a diagnosis of Serum Induced Amnesia. She was hoping it was temporary, and the labs here –a very minor subset of what Erudite had –believed it would wear off.

The only catch was no one knew when.

After multiple visits to Arlene, an afternoon with Rylan, a few hours with Jason, and most of the nights with Tris, it was my turn to hang out with Four. Eric announced this with great displeasure. His stare was heavy with ridicule at the idea of Four needing a babysitter, and the irony of me showing Four around Dauntless wasn't lost on him. I had barely figured out how to get to the shop where Christina worked, so I didn't feel like an actual human being should be my responsibility.

Nevertheless, Eric insisted. Apparently, Jack Kang decided he wanted all the Dauntless leaders in a meeting, and since Tris had to work, I was to hang out with Four until she could take him home.

In some ways, I felt sorry for him. He and I both hadn't fit into our factions, though his reasons were drastically different from mine. I decided I'd use this time to try and be his friend, but so far, it was like talking to a wall.

"What's your name again? Ella? Ellery?"

"It's Everly," I nudge his plate at him, hoping he remembers he's supposed to eat. I wasn't sure what the serum made you forget. He looked fine; his hair looked better than I'd seen it, and he didn't look so tired. But his shirt was green, his pants were black, and his jacket was new. So was the bracelet on his wrist.

Upon further inspection, I realize there's a very tiny tag on it with a slew of numbers, and I would bet my own lunch it was linked to his card here. Someone had the foresight to keep it on him, just in case he wandered off and couldn't tell anyone where he belonged.

"Okay, Everly," he shrugs, and he reaches for the drink I bought. I didn't know what he liked, so I picked out something that sounded good and seemed reasonably caffeinated. "I swear Ryan said your name is something else."

"Rylan," I gently correct him. "I think he was joking. My name is Everly. But uh, I'm really glad we're having lunch together. It's nice out here."

He closes his eyes.

I try not to laugh, because he reminds me of Zander. He looks like he's having anything but fun, though he eventually opens them with a sigh of exasperation.

"You don't have to pretend to be nice. I know you've been forced to hang out with me since I don't know what's going on. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to not remember anything? Or be told that I can't remember anything? Everyone keeps saying this will wear off, but I don't even know what it is."

"Oh, did Tris tell you what happened?" I take a bite of my salad, and I watch him carefully. His expression changes slightly, mostly at her name. "She said she was staying with you."

"She told me I was injected with a serum that made me lose my memory. I guess it's true. I don't remember what I do here or how I got injected." Four takes a bite of his own salad like he doesn't trust it. "She said it was my mother who did it."

There is no bitterness in his words, though there should be.

"Do you remember Tris?" I change the subject slightly; I'm not an expert on his mother, and I wouldn't even consider us friendly enough to talk about her. He'd given me the barest details of their relationship. It was strikingly similar to Eric's mother: both were absent while they grew up, yet both expected them to help out now, with an array of strings attached.

"I…" Four pauses, and he throws an empty smile as someone says hello. "It's like I know the memory of her. I can't remember a single interaction we've had, or who she is, but I feel like…like there's something important about her."

"There is," I confirm immediately, and I'm optimistic.

The Four I'd met back in Amity would have never told me any of this. He liked his privacy, had only asked my name because I was being used in Evelyn's war, and in some last ditch attempt to stop her, he'd stuck up for me. My knowledge of his and Tris' relationship was also minimal. She was visibly upset by what had happened to him, and now he was subconsciously finding comfort in her.

This is good.

At least I think it is.

"Great. Except, I can't remember her or who she is. Your husband doesn't trust me to be alone for two minutes, and you're making me eat…this for lunch." Four narrows his eyes at me, then frowns even further when Stella scurries by. She's dressed in scrubs, and she walks with someone else from the infirmary. "Do I know her? She looks familiar."

His stare is curious and a wave of horror washes over me.

The last thing I need is for him to start some weird, amnesiac romance with the nurse who took his temperature.

"Oh, no. I don't think so. But you do know Tris. Very well. Do you remember…going…. for a walk with her?" I blurt out quickly, doing my best to think of something the two of them might have done. "Or the time you went shopping? And you loved it? You stayed there for hours."

"Uh, no." Four swallows down a bite of the lunch he hates, and he shakes his head. "Were you there?"

"Yes," I make this up completely, and I perk up when I see Rylan. He's walking with Karl, and they split the second he sees me. He bounces over to the table with great enthusiasm, then flops down into the empty seat.

"Everly! Frank! What's up! I just got back. Eric should be here in a half hour. He got stuck with Max and Jack. How's…lunch?" Rylan eyes the food just as suspiciously as Four did, and he shakes his head. "Why are you eating here? Quinten would have made you something better. Everyone knows this is the last resort when it comes to dining."

"This is fine. It's good," I protest, and Four rolls his eyes.

"It's not good."

"For once, I agree with Frank," Rylan wrinkles his nose. "You uh, remember anything yet?"

"No, should I?" Four stares at him, and his mood sours. "And my name isn't Frank."

"Can you even be sure of that?" Rylan laughs, and his hair is pulled up into an exaggerated bun. "Hey, do you guys want to go to the New Year's party with us? Christina and I are going, and I thought it would be fun if we all went. Jason and Megalodon are going. Jeremy bitched the entire time that he doesn't want to go, so I was thinking maybe uh, Tris and Frank can go together. Eric said Jeremy can work security since he's being a whiny little bitch."

"No thanks," Four answers flatly, and I glare at him. "What! I don't even know what New Year's is, or why we'd be having a party. And I doubt Tris wants to go with me. She keeps…running off to work."

"Yeah, well she does have a job here. I could ask Kacie not to schedule her." Rylan is oddly helpful, until he's not. "Hey, not to be the mood killer here, but uh, the request to go to Erudite was denied."

"What request?" I stare at him in confusion, and he frowns at Four. He then forces a smile, until Four looks away.

"I brought it up to Eric. He's not entirely convinced, but he did agree it wouldn't hurt to have someone check out what's going on. He tried to angle it that we need to know what we're up against, but uh, Jeanine denied it. She said Four can be treated here, and then she and Eric got into some screaming match on the phone and he missed our exit to Candor and blamed me."

My eyes widen.

"And to think he dares critique my driving. But don't worry, he wasn't yelling about Four," Rylan whispers, and he flashes Four a blinding smile. "It was about something else. He didn't go to some meeting this morning and instead went to Candor. Jeanine didn't appreciate that or being left out of the Candor meeting. Except no one invited her there."

"Is Eric going to get in trouble?" I half whisper back.

Four busies himself by eating his salad. He's not particularly invested in our conversation anymore, and every so often, he looks around. He stops when he stares at Stella, and I kick him under the table. His gaze whips to me, accusatory as ever.

"Did you just kick me?"

"Nah, Eric never gets in trouble. He'll kill Jeanine if she gets too annoying. She's just…her demands are out of control. But anyway, I thought I could slip it in but it didn't go over very well. He's been on the warpath ever since. It's up to you to calm Eric down. Otherwise, he'll destroy the faction in a fit of rage."

"Your husband sounds fun," Four glowers, and he crosses his arms over his chest. "How long do I have to stay here? Can I go home?"

"I don't know where you live. And Eric's isn't…" I pause when I catch Rylan starting to smile, and I glare at him. "He won't admit anything to me. I asked him if we were married the other day and he just…sort of smirked."

"Sounds about right."

"You don't know if you're married? Are you sure you didn't have your memory erased?" Four interrupts, and his face is completely serious. He then cracks the barest hint of a smile, and it takes me a second to realize he's kidding. "I'm joking, Ellery."

"My name is Everly!" I glare at him, ignoring Rylan's bark of laughter. "You know what, you two can hang out. I'm going to find Eric and I'm asking him what paperwork I signed. I should have read it better."

"Yeah, you definitely should have. I'm pretty sure he made it so you can't ever divorce him. He's strangely romantic that way."

"How old are you?" Four looks up at me when I stand up, and Rylan laughs even harder. "What? How are you married? Eric seems like an ass."

"Oh, Frank. You have no idea. But if you come with me, I'll take you to Quinten. He can make us hot dogs and I'll fill you in on the world of Mr. and Mrs. Eric Coulter." Rylan shoves the salad away from Four, and he salutes me. "Good luck with Eric. Let me know if I should warn everyone his rampage can't be contained."

"I will," I announce, and I hesitate only for a second. "Are you sure you'll be okay? You and Four?"

"Everly," Rylan grins, and I realize I might have just made the worst decision of my life. "Go. Four and I will have a blast together. I've been waiting for this moment my entire life."

"Really? This specific moment? The one where Four doesn't remember who he is, and I'm going to go call Eric to make sure he's calm enough to return to Dauntless and ask him if he married me without telling me, and you and Four are going to get hotdogs?"

"All of it. Every single bit," Rylan answers seriously. "Bye Coulter. See you later."

"Yeah, bye. Thank you for lunch, but I have to admit it was terrible."

I can't bring myself to glare at him or Four.

I leave the roof in a huff, determined to get a hold of my maybe or maybe not husband.

He doesn't answer.

Not once.

Not twice.

Not even three times.

I finally get a text after a few minutes, and it thinly informs me he'll be home soon, and he has a headache.

I sigh into a dark hallway, hating that Rylan wasn't lying at all about Eric's mood.

The market is less crowded today.

Eric walks along with me, a half step ahead, but he keeps my hand in his. Ever since his return yesterday, his mood had been questionable at best. It wasn't aimed at me, but we both shared a sense of frustration at one another.

I didn't know how to help him shake the crappy mood, and he clearly had never had anyone around him when he was in such a state.

He'd stormed back into the faction with the rage of ten thousand angry bees. He swore as he took the steps two at a time, and he barely noticed me waiting for him. The first time I'd stood there awaiting his return had some thinly veiled romance to it; I got the impression he'd returned from several patrols or outings alone, while his friends had significant others waiting for them. The second time I had the chance to see him arrive, he stalked past me so quickly I had whiplash. He was on the phone, seething over some orders he wasn't happy with, and he verbalized the person on the other end had better see his point of view, and quickly.

The night didn't get much better.

He turned on his heel to see me there, and he motioned for me to follow him. He spent the rest of his evening looking oddly exasperated by every single thing about his apartment. He nearly stepped on me when I tried to slink behind him to get some water, and he scowled when I put my fork in the sink. He slammed his paperwork down in a fit of childish rage, still not aimed at me, and he hissed when his phone rang. To be fair, it rang twenty-six times. He answered all but three of the calls, and each one spanned longer than either of us would have liked.

Eventually, he was done answering his phone because it died. I tried to sit by him when he turned on the TV, and I was rewarded with a blank stare of confusion. It was like he'd forgotten I was here. This stung, so much that I recoiled away from him, and mumbled I was going to bed. I'd spent a lot of my life feeling like an afterthought, but coming from him, it was brutal.

So brutal I stood in his bathroom, struggling not to cry. The feeling was overwhelming and crappy. I was alone here, even with the few meager friends I'd made. I could probably call Rylan or Jason if things got really bad, or maybe even Christina. I could go see Linda and beg her to let me stay for a few hours, even though I'd only met her once.

Arlene was my absolute last resort.

I contemplated faking a headache and maybe asking to sleep down there.

Once I was done choking on this made up rejection, I tried to think things through logically. Eric had flat out told me no one spent the night, let alone lived with him. My presence, no longer minimal as he kicked my book out of the way and sighed when he found a hair tie that had fallen onto the couch cushion, had to be strange to him. He'd been alone for years. This probably wasn't the first night he'd come home in a shitty mood, but it was the first night someone else was here to deal with it.

I felt as defeated as ever.

I liked him.

I more than liked him, and not just because he was giving me a chance to have a life here. I liked our time together, and I was suddenly experiencing what it was like to have a life of my own. Even with Eric heavily involved, this was all new to me.

Including trying to navigate a relationship with someone who couldn't tell me he'd married me.

So, I gave him his space.

I brushed my teeth with toothpaste that suddenly tasted far too strong, and I put my toothbrush back next to his. I went to bed without telling him, curling up on my own side, away from his, and I gave him as much of his own bed as he wanted. If he really pressed, I could slip away into the guest room.

After years of having Zander decide he wanted to sleep next to me, I completely understood Eric's desire to be left alone.

I was as surprised as ever when I woke up against his chest. I wasn't even just against his chest like I'd moved closer to him and thrown my arms over him in search of warmth. He was on my side of the bed, and he'd thrown his arm over me. His leg was over me too, an unconscious attempt at keeping me close, and he was heavy. Hot. Dead asleep with more than a hint of exhaustion to him. I laid there for a while, examining his face and every twitch and slight movement, and he eventually opened his eyes.

He was sorry.

I could tell, even though he wasn't able to say it. He chewed on the side of his lip while his eyes blinked away the lingering sleep, and he shook his head. He was laying on my pillow, so close that if I moved, I'd fall off the bed, and he had to be hot. His emotions ran a gamut from remorse to straight up well disguised panic.

"It's okay."

I forgave him without any hesitation. Whatever he was furious over was dulled in the morning, and once we'd both gotten ready, he asked if I wanted to join him at the market. I immediately agreed, and he looked pleased when I reached for his hand, and my fingers slid right between his.

"I was thinking we should buy a table for the kitchen."

Now, he murmurs the words so only I can hear him, like this is a secret mission. Domestic bliss might be, given his aversion to clearing anything up relating to our marital status. I hadn't pushed the issue on the drive over here, and instead, I'd sat close to him, and examined the fingers on his free hand while he drove faster than was necessary.

"Do they have them here?" I crane my head up to look at him, and we both ignore the stares from a few of the people shopping.

The further we go into the market, the more crowded it becomes. It's nowhere near as busy as it was last time, but the cold might have officially scared everyone off. The ones shopping here have purpose; a woman bargains for six eggs, claiming they're too expensive even though they're boasted as being the best eggs out of every faction. Carole argues back the woman can take it or leave it, and next to her, someone I faintly recognize is selling homemade jam.

They both look up as I walk by, and I smile in their direction.

For a second, they don't smile back, because it's like neither recognize me. Each one stares at my hand in Eric's, then my outfit. The leggings he'd tossed at me are warmer than I would have imagined, and my shirt is his. It's a warm button-down, far too large but perfect over a tank top, and I'd left my boots unlaced halfway. Rylan wore his like this, though he was often seconds away from tripping over his, but I tied mine after wrapping the laces around my ankles a few times. I pulled my hair up into a bun, not wanting to spend much time pushing it out of my face, and it was loopy and messy and not at all like the edgy styles favored in Dauntless.

It was strange that an outfit made me feel different. Much like the black dress I'd walked through Amity in, this felt powerful, too. It wasn't overly girly or youthful, but it felt like something a member of Dauntless would wear. Eric liked it, too, if only because the shirt was his and he'd bought the boots for me.

Carole finally throws me the faintest of smiles, but her eyes narrow suspiciously, especially as Eric's hand leaves mine to point at the furniture in the distance.

"Over there. The guy salvages one of a kind pieces. I get all my furniture from him," Eric announces loudly, and I wonder if he'd ever eaten at a regular kitchen table. Everything he's pointing at is black or less black, and he has much nicer taste than anyone I've ever met. "You coming?"

"Actually, you go ahead and pick one out. I'll be right there," I call back, and I head in the opposite direction.

It's not so much that I have an aversion to kitchen table shopping, for the sheer act is an incredibly telling sign, but because I want to see if there are any more of the books I've been reading. I hadn't finished the second one yet, but I hadn't seen any more of them on Eric's bookshelf. I had gotten lucky that he had the first two, but now I was hoping to find another one here.

I walk toward the books with all the confidence in the world.

My luck improves when I realize the first row has what I want, but it lessens with the second step I take.

The woman in front of the shelf I need lingers there. She tilts her head up at the top shelf –labeled Improbable YA fiction –and her fingers press on a few titles. She selects none, and sighs dejectedly.

I stand frozen in place, right up until Camille glances in my direction. Her eyes widen in disbelief, and I have the urge to bolt to the brain surgery section.

"Everly! Wait!"

She can tell I'm ready to leave. Camille takes off without picking out a book, though I didn't really expect her to be over here. She moves quickly through the row, and she's in front of me in a few seconds. I look up at her with absolutely no clue what to say.

Or knowledge of why she'd want to talk to me.

The last time I saw her, she was here with Daniel. She hadn't been at the dinner with him and Blythe, but I wish she had. Maybe she'd have stuck up for me.

Actually, judging from the determined look on her face, she'd have clocked Blythe on my behalf. I try to smile, but I know it's wobbly at best.

"Hi! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," Camille says quickly, and she stops so close we're practically touching. "I wanted to talk to you before you ran. You look a little skittish."

"I wasn't…okay, I was going to leave. I just came over here to look for a book," I admit just as quickly, and I cross my arms over my chest. "Why do you need to talk to me?"

"Um," Despite her position with Daniel and years of living in Erudite, she fumbles for the words. She sneaks a glance left and right to make sure no one is listening and drops her head down. "I wanted to tell you I'm really sorry about the dinner. You have no idea how upset Daniel is. He's been really worked up over what happened."

I stare up at her.

She's very pretty.

Her brown hair is down and longer than I expected, and she's much softer looking than Blythe.

"How do you know about the dinner?"

"Daniel told me. He left the restaurant after you did, and he called me to tell me he'd made a terrible mistake. He's been sick over not saying anything." Camille pauses, and I find this hard to believe. "I know, you're probably thinking, why didn't he say something? But…it's a complicated situation. He's been trying to get a hold of Eric since it happened to explain what's going on."

"Blythe said some really terrible things to me," I point out, and I take a step back from her. Talking about the dinner brought up a lot of feelings, including a familiar wave of sea sickness. "Eric's father didn't say anything. He just…he let Blythe accuse me of trying to trick Eric into bringing me to Dauntless. He could have told her to stop."

"I know," Camille says softly. "Trust me, he's incredibly embarrassed and horrified she acted like that. It's not the first time she's ruined one of their dinners."

I shrug because I don't know what to say. It was nice he felt bad, but it hardly made up for accusing me of being an absolute moron who was only here because Eric liked to have sex with me.

"He could call you. Maybe you guys could talk." Camille's suggestion is hopeful, but I don't know what to say. She can tell this, too. She looks defeated, and her lips turn downward. "Daniel told me everything. You don't deserve a single word Blythe said to you. She's not…Dr. Coulter is not the nicest woman out there. They don't really see eye to eye anymore."

"What is he doing right now?" I ask curiously, hoping he was filing for divorce. If that were even a thing. "Why didn't he stop her? She's a terrible person."

"Tell me about it," Camille smiles, and it falters when her stare slides over my shoulder. "Hi, Eric."

"What are you doing with Everly?"

Eric's words are sharp. He walks toward her slowly, distrustful as ever, and his hand immediately takes hold of mine. He pulls me away from her, but his possessiveness isn't unexpected. Camille isn't technically any safer than Blythe. While she hasn't insulted me thus far, there was a chance she'd do it the second I turned my back.

I hated not trusting her. I hated that I'd been in a situation which made me not trust anyone from Erudite, especially considering Camille wasn't even there.

"I was apologizing to her. Your father talked to me about the dinner. He's been trying to get a hold of you," Camille stares Eric down, unafraid of his sneer. "You could at least answer his phone call."

"He could have at least told Blythe to shut it," Eric snarls, and his grip grows tighter. I squeeze his hand back in hopes of reassuring him I'm fine, and he gets, but ignores, the message. "Why are you apologizing? Did Daniel send you to make things better? You covering up something else for him?"

"Call your father when you have time. He'd like to make things right," Camille is unbothered. She sounds maternal, more like she's his mother and she's annoyed he'd been ignoring them. "You could at least give him that."

"Why? Because he's such a stellar father? Should I remind you of all the times he's chosen the hospital over anything else? But I think you know that. You're a part of it."

"Eric, it's okay." I step between them, and I smile up at him. His own button-down shirt is darker than mine. It's a checkered print, making him look less severe but somehow more dangerous. I only come up to the middle of his chest, and I unconsciously move closer, so my cheek rests against the warm fabric. "She's just trying to help. She said he's sorry."

"He's a sorry excuse for a father, that's for sure." Eric's words are barked with all the hatred in the world, but I know it's out of hurt. He sounds furious, but if you really listen, there's more to it than what he's saying. "Fuck off, Camille. Blythe has him right where she wants him. Nothing will change. Ever."

"That's not true," she snaps back, and she glances down at me, then back up at him. "He's been…. he's doing a lot. He's not willing to listen to her anymore. He's making some decisions and –"

"This is fascinating and all, but Everly and I are here to pick out a table. Not listen to you try and defend him." Eric says this with a hint of finality. "Tell him to quit calling me. I heard enough the other night."

"Everly…" Camille tries, but Eric is having none of it.

"Leave her alone."

Eric steps back, taking me with him. I glance back at Camille once, and I do my best to smile. Eric still holds onto the same edgy rage from last night, but it fizzles the farther away we get from the books. He never once looks back at her. He takes me over to look at a large black table, big enough for my entire family in Amity, and he evenly informs me this is the one we're getting.

I stay quiet.

I keep my hand in his, holding onto his wrist while the man rings him up and gives him a ridiculously high amount for the table, and I rest my head on his chest while he pays.

The events of the past two days have given me a headache. I close my eyes until Eric asks if I'm okay, and when I open them, Camille hovers near the edge of the furniture, a safe distance away.

Her stare stays on me, and so does her frown.

In the morning, I wake up feeling much better.

The only crummy part is waking up alone, but I ignore that since I know Eric is already at work. I shove the covers back, and I barely make it out of bed before my phone rings.

It's startlingly loud.

I stare at the screen in surprise because no one really calls me. The only person to ever message me was Eric or Rylan, and occasionally Christina. I feel like it's a trick as I answer a number I don't recognize, and I'm greeted by Harrison, cheerfully asking me how I am and quickly informing me he's calling from a backup phone.

"I'm good! Where are you? Are you in Amity? Is…did my dad return? Is Zander okay? Where's my mom?"

My questions tumble out one after the other, and he laughs at my frantic interrogation. It's probably the result of our time always being interrupted. I often felt like the second I got close to him, he was yanked away. Even now, I can hear Zander yelling in the background, and my stomach sinks at his demands.

"I am in Amity. You're speaking to their brand new leader. The first thing I did was make Carole surrender half the chickens she stole from Jerry. She claims he signed something saying she could have them, but experts agree the signature is forged." He pauses, and quietly tells Zander he needs boots on. "Your…your father is here. Hank returned a few days ago. He's doing really well. He told your mother he wanted to live on his own for a while, and he agreed to the kids splitting their time here. I'll be honest, he still looks weak. But he's got a few nurses checking in on him, and I've asked one to stick around. Worst case scenario, we call in Arlene."

"And my mom?" I press the phone tighter to my ear, trying to memorize his voice while ignoring the fact that he called Hank my father. I hadn't grown up with Harrison as my father, but I desperately want him to say he is. "Is she alright?"

His pause is lengthy.

"She's…doing okay. She was shocked to learn he was leaving, and even more shocked to learn he was dead set on it. One of the neighbors helped him move. Nice lady. Your mom feels like maybe she's been holding him back." He stops, and there's a rustling while he helps Zander. "Everyone else is good. Your brothers and sisters miss you terribly. Holly wants to know if you'll be back to visit. Paisley wants your room. Leif and Wesley didn't know you were gone."

"What!" I scowl, and his response is a bark of laughter. "Jerks."

"They miss you. Everyone does. May said it's awfully quiet without you."

"Yeah, well, that's just because there are no more attempted murders," I mutter, and I sit back on the bed. "Are you…are you happy there? Are you staying with my mom?"

"I'm not. I'm staying in the visitor's residences. But I have access to almost everything. Johanna has a lot of shit to go through. I'll be here longer than planned," Harrison sounds unfazed by this.

"Will I see you again?" I hate the way I sound miserable, because I'm not at all. I just don't like the fact that he's in Amity, and I'm in Dauntless. "Will you be back here or –"

"Is Eric taking care of you? Are you okay? You sound a little down," Harrison cuts me off, but it's out of pure concern. "Everly? Are you happy there?"

"I am. I just…I wanted to get to know you. I talked to my dad for a long time and…I'm okay with him leaving. But this feels like you're leaving, too. Only because I'm not there. I'm happy for Zander, though." My wistful tone is heavy, full of an unfair need for him to be in my life. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to ask that of you. I just…it feels wrong to find out who you are, and then you're in another faction again."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with any of that. It is unfair. I hesitated coming here for those exact reasons, but the truth of the matter is, Amity got me or Rylan. He's next up for a major assignment. And if Rylan was placed here, the faction would be nothing but chicken murder investigations and chicken pageants. I'm working to fend off anyone who thinks Amity is an easy target for takeover. But I'll be back. Even if I don't return permanently, I'll see you. I spent too long not being in your life to continue that way."

"Do you promise?" I pull my feet up, and I swallow down the fear of not knowing him. "I know this is sudden but…I just don't want to waste the opportunity."

"Everly, you have my word. I'll be back in a week for a meeting. After that, maybe you and Eric can come out here. I'll tell you anything you want."

"Okay, but you promise? Like, really promise?" I wait for him to answer, and I stare at Eric's nightstand. It is black, and empty except for a phone charger. "Harrison?"

"I promise you. If I don't see you at the meeting, I'll have Eric's head on a platter. Do you promise me you're happy? You sound a little sad."

I'm tempted to tell him about Blythe. He'd looked out for me when it came to Landon, and maybe he'd know what to do about Blythe.

I don't get the chance. Zander demands he go outside to build a snowman, and he shrieks at the top of his lungs when Harrison doesn't hang up immediately.

"Actually, can I call you later?"

"Of course."

He hangs up right after this. I sit on the bed holding the phone in my hands, and I stare at his name for a long time.

His clothes are dark.

I touch the fabrics carefully, so as not to disturb the neat order in his dresser drawer, and I feel a flash of guilt at looking through his things. He hadn't told me not to open up his drawers, and my guess is, if he came back in here and found me holding up a shirt, he wouldn't be mad. He'd probably ask what I was doing, but I don't think he'd be upset.

I reassure myself of this as I pick up a few.

Eric is still a mystery, though it was obvious I had gotten closer to him than most. I'd sat with him on the couch last night, listening to him mumble low insults about Camille while we watched an intern catch the office microwave on fire. He made it very clear he didn't like her. His dislike wasn't on the same level of hatred as his loathing of Blythe, but close. From what I put together, he felt like Camille was just another person who kept his father at the hospital. She worked as his assistant, and the two of them were often there, late. Together. If Daniel wasn't happy with Blythe, like Camille hinted, then Camille was just a tiny reason why.

She probably gave him hope for a better future, but at the same time, she took up precious seconds which could have been directed at Eric.

It wasn't hard to figure out Eric resented his father for not being around. Despite the brash attitude and outright dismissal of needing him, it was a long lasting sting that his dad chose work over him. Even Hank had made time for us. It wasn't until later on that his work became involved and consuming, but he preferred to be with his family.

Eric didn't have that, and he never had.

It's why he's attached to the idea of us and making sure I want him and only him.

He doesn't have to worry.

I shut his dresser drawer once I reach the cold metal of a gun shoved beneath his clothes, and I move on to the next one. Dark boxers, darker boxer briefs, and a few pairs of socks. There are pants a few drawers down, workout clothes, and the occasional heavier shirt.

I hit gold when I reach the last drawer.

It's my paperwork.

My eyes widen as I find it, and I sit down on my heels to rifle through it. There's a rush of bravery at looking at things with my name on them. The first set of paperwork is from the infirmary. Arlene's notes are a scribbled rush of horror at me never having a single check-up past my mother's quick exams back in Amity. There is a long list of shots and vaccines she believes I need. A slew of vitamins. A hint that I might struggle to adjust here, given a lifetime of sunshine and wide-open spaces, and Dauntless offers none. A word of caution that I appear nervous, and I am most definitely not on any birth control.

The second one is paperwork I don't understand. Some sort of census report, some sort of arrest report stating Everly Carlen has been taken into custody for crimes against the Amity faction but followed up with Everly Coulter being made an official member of Dauntless. It's stapled to a page with all kinds of information: where I live –Eric's apartment – and a member ID number. Followed by my signature next to Eric's on a document stating…something.

There's more.

A printed email from Eric's father asking if he's really married, and one from his mother demanding he dissolve the marriage at once.

My stomach drops.

I put everything back in the drawer immediately, just as neat as before.


	24. Love and Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Bamberlee for editing!

I wait patiently.

I sit next to Eric at Clyde's in a dress with exaggerated sleeves and my hair down. Christina had come over to help me get ready. Her arrival was unexpected, but welcome. She helped me straighten my hair until it was longer and shinier than before, and we caught up on a few things while she worked on each section.

She told me Rylan had filled her in on the latest with Four. There was no good prognosis, and he'd taken to glaring at everyone who walked by him. He loathed being reminded that he couldn't remember anything, and the only time he eased up was when he was with Tris. It proved to be a problem. Tris' relationship with Jeremy was immediately strained, especially when in the middle of the mess hall, he loudly declared she was to stay away from Four.

I almost fell off the side of the tub I was sitting on when Christina told me that.

Jeremy took great offense to his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend needing her help, and worse, he tried to have Four banned to the infirmary. Tris was horrified, both at Jeremy's demand and his theory that something was going on with Four. She'd dumped Four because he was clingy, but she did feel obligated to help him. Christina went on to tell me it wasn't as innocent as it seemed and Jeremy wasn't so far off base with his guess that Tris' concern wasn't just friendly. Christina then sighed while straightening a piece of my hair so long she could barely do it in one swipe, and bluntly told me it was obvious they still loved each other.

I didn't have much to go on, but I didn't disagree.

It was an odd romance. Both were stubborn and headstrong, but maybe this would bring them together.

She laughed when she told me Rylan was still referring to Four as Frank and had changed his name in the database. I liked her and her laughing, and I even liked when Rylan called and she propped up the phone so we could both hear him. It was obvious they adored each other; both were gossipy and sarcastic, though Christina proved to be more levelheaded. They snickered over the latest drama of Four asking if Tris could go with him to get his hair cut, and Tris' extreme reluctance to piss off Jeremy.

It came to a head when Rylan turned off the cameras for their sake, and Jeremy found out.

All this culminated when they invited us to dinner. Eric agreed, and on the walk over, I knew he felt guilty.

Whatever argument he'd been in with Jeanine was spilling over into his time with me. I hadn't brought up discovering we were married, but I didn't know how. I wasn't afraid of him. Out of anyone in Dauntless, I was the closest to him. I'd put together a theory, which I firmly believed to be true, and that theory was Eric wanted someone to love him.

At first, I thought I was being stupid.

I'd never been in love, but I had the weirdest feeling I was seeing what it was like when someone loved you. Eric was so independent it was strange he even lived here. He kept to himself, kept his social circle incredibly small, and used his power to build a life that allocated him the privacy he wanted. While he could be reached by phone, he'd turn it off once he'd had enough. He had an apartment with plenty of space, completely decorated the way he wanted. He had the whole faction at his fingertips. Even if this rift with Jeanine blew up in his face, she couldn't touch him here. It was unlikely she'd even be able to find him, and even more unlikely the rest of the leaders would let her come after him.

His friends were fiercely loyal, along with Max and Tori, and the support staff who made the faction run smoothly.

But his life wasn't as perfect as he played it off. In the darkest, coldest parts of the night, he was unconsciously clingy. He sat as close to me as he could, and his fingers never left me. He liked to touch the places where no one else could, and not just the ones that made me gasp his name. He skimmed over my neck, behind my ear, and over my collar bone. He touched my side, slipping beneath his own shirt I'd thrown on, and carefully pressed over the ghost of past bruises. He liked my hair; he often sunk his fingers in to catch the tangled parts or twirled the strands around.

If I wasn't close to him, he found a way to change this.

My head on his chest.

His legs through mine.

His bed shared, but not. There was no space between us, even if things weren't physical. He held on tightly, seeking out the feeling of me against his skin, all while being the most terrifying leader Dauntless had. The rumors didn't quite match up to the Eric I saw when I curled against him every night, but I knew they were true. I'd watched him shoot Evelyn while running, point blank, and it was a skill that required extreme dedication. I'd watched him stalk through Amity looking for…something. I'd witnessed him attack Four, his voice low and calm but his motions filled with rage and fury, seconds after he'd let go of my face.

There was no softening of him over time, but an understanding.

Which was why I couldn't ask him about the emails I'd found. It wasn't my place to snoop through his things, even if it left me wondering if he'd ever tell me. Maybe I wasn't the wife he'd imagined, or he was so insulted that I said I wouldn't marry him that he went ahead and did it for me to cover up his own pride.

Whatever the case may be, he is content with me now, adjusting us so my back is against him and his arm is around me.

"So are you telling me that Four might never remember who he is? Does anyone have the Cliff notes on his tumultuous relationship with Prior? Who's gonna fill him in on how terribly that ended?" Rylan takes a sip of his drink, a tall neon colored concoction that glows, and I imagine his internal organs lighting up with every sip. "Ellery? Will you be the one to remind him about the scene in the mess hall? I wish I'd gotten it on video."

I smile from beneath my hair, and I push it out of the way to see him better.

He and Christina are wired. They both have similar drinks, plates of nachos and onion rings and some fried sticks they claimed had cheese in them. They laugh as Lucy drops off more appetizers: a plate with slices of meat and more cheese, followed by a heaping pile of fries. They look at me expectantly, and I try not to laugh considering I hadn't been here for any of that.

"I don't know anything about their relationship." I reach for my water over the soda Lucy had brought, and I shrug. "I just heard it didn't end well."

"Nothing Four does ends well," Jason slides into the booth next to Rylan, and both Rylan and Christina move down so he can sit with them. They both look up to greet the person waiting, and I realize he has Meghan with him. "Hey, uh, this is Meghan. Meghan this is Everly."

"Ellery," Rylan snickers, and he throws a fry at me. Eric stays silent, not mad, and not even annoyed at his friend, just sort of lost in whatever he's thinking about. "Eric. Earth to Eric. I just called your wife by the wrong name."

"I heard you," Eric answers dryly, and he tosses the fry back at him. "I don't think Everly has truly witnessed Four and Tris at their best. Maybe we should let her. And hey Meghan."

"Hi."

I'm shocked he greeted her, and so is she. For a second, she hovers at the end of the table like she's not sure she wants to join us. Her hair, long and shiny, is a startling shade of neon green. She's skinny, really skinny, and she practically wobbles in place while she looks at me.

Her eyes are piercing and pretty, and it takes me a single second to realize she's tipsy.

"Oh my gosh, that's really her! Jason, she's real!"

"Oh boy," Jason answers, reaching for Meghan to pull her down next to him. He throws me an apologetic glance, and he struggles to keep her upright. She's not sloppily drunk, but she finds his actions hilarious. She leans against him, her hair glowing like Rylan's drink under the lighting, and her stare returns to me. "This is Meghan. We uh, went to happy hour before coming up here."

"Where?" Rylan glances down at him, and so does Christina. "At the new bar?"

"Yeah, it was crazy. Everything is super expensive, but we had fun. Meghan liked it."

"I fell off the barstool," she shrugs, and she nearly knocks Rylan's drink over trying to slide it to him. "What is that? I want it."

"Maybe let's have some water," Jason laughs, but he's just as buzzed as she is.

I watch them carefully. Jason's cheeks are red, and he laughs every time she bumps into him. Meghan is startling pretty and obviously enamored with him. She takes his hand and holds on tightly, leaning back and closing her eyes for a second.

"She's wasted," Eric mutters, and his lips graze my ear. "She works in administration. She's very nice and I'm sure you'll get along great, but she loves to drink. She had a strict upbringing so she's making up for it now."

"How tall are you?" Meghan asks, and her eyes are wide. "She's so little. Eric is so…."

"Athletically inclined?" Rylan laughs, and he looks up when Lucy returns to take our order. "You know my order. Harrison said I can have whatever I want."

"Yes, I'm aware." Lucy's response is dry. "I'll have the cooks start on your children's meal now. I already warned them you're here."

"Great," he winks, and Christina laughs into her drink. "Chris will have the same."

"No, I will not. I'll have a cheeseburger. I need actual food. Not frozen, prehistoric shaped chicken nuggets." Christina shakes her head, and she looks at Jason. "Do you guys need a minute?"

"Nah."

"Eric?" Lucy stands at the end of the table, and her shirt is black and blue. It says Clyde's above the pocket, and I wonder if the name means something. "Or…Everly?"

She looks at me, and I realize I'm sort of staring at her. "Oh, sorry. I'll have um…the chicken."

"Are you sure?" Lucy hesitates, and the look on her face makes me rethink ordering anything off the menu. "Actually, you know what, Paul is filling in for the cook. You'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" I stare up at her as Eric takes my menu, and he snorts at my question. He quickly orders his own meal, then waits for Jason and Meghan.

I decide I like them, too.

The world of Dauntless is strange, yet not that unlike Amity. It's very clear people are friends here. They work, hang out, eat dinner, and go home. While this is probably only the tip of the iceberg of what it's like to live here, I find that I really like it. Every so often, a tiny bit of doubt sneaks up, that maybe this isn't where I belong.

But the longer I stay here, the more I think it is.

Especially when Meghan orders tacos and smiles over at me. She starts to ask me about Amity, curiously wanting to know what the guys were like and if I'd ever seen any wild animals wandering around, and she doesn't stop, not even when the food arrives.

Or the ends of her hair dip into her drink, soaking in a bright, glowing liquid for the entire dinner.

"Are you ready?"

Eric stares at me while he fixes the collar on my jacket. It's a tiny, mirror replica of his, even though I'm not a leader here. He smooths the collar out once he adjusts it, then brushes my hair back and off my neck.

He waits patiently until I nod my head at him, oddly nervous.

Since discovering the paperwork, I waited for Eric to admit we were married. It wasn't a huge surprise given Rylan's ongoing hints and my status in his game, but it was strange he wouldn't tell me. For a few wavering seconds, I wondered if he was embarrassed by me. Perhaps marrying a girl from Amity would be frowned upon by the Dauntless faction, or I wasn't living up to his expectations.

I was trying.

Since our dinner with his friends, I'd felt like I could have a place here. I tried out some new things, thinking this would up my chances of proving I fit in.

I'd gone running with him yesterday. It was easier than I thought and exhilarating, especially in the cold dark air. I'd never run through the city before, and even sweaty and kind of cold, it was an eye-opening experience. There was so much more out there than I ever imagined. Eric led me along an easy path; he stuck close by, but gave me the chance to take it all in. I kept up as best I could, and I wasn't even tired until we got back and I showered.

I wound up sleeping all morning, and I awoke only when Christina called to invite me to lunch.

Other than that, I felt like I was doing okay. Dauntless was easier to navigate. I could get to the mess hall on my own. The stores. The Pit, though I stayed away since the violent fighting was a little too intense for me to watch. I'd caught a glimpse of two members working through some argument by punching each other in the head, and I kept going in search of ice cream. I knew other places, too. I visited Will in the control room, taking the seat beside him to watch Harrison and May stroll through the Amity faction with a trail of both members and ducks behind them. I visited Christina, and she showed me the tattoo she wanted to get and left early so we could get a late breakfast.

I even went to see Four, though his demeanor was no better. He still couldn't remember anything, and since Zeke worked full time on one of the routes, Tris was staying with him. This development had led to some blow up argument between her and Jeremy, though Eric could not have cared any less. He rolled his eyes and said he sided with Jeremy, but part of him looked pleased at the situation. Jeremy's work was suffering as a result, and it gave Eric all the more reason not to promote him.

I listened to everything going on around me. I soaked up every single word of gossip, rumor, or fact I could. I sat next to Max in the breakroom, and I asked Tori how she liked being a leader. I went shooting with Eric again, hitting more or less all of the required number of targets, before heading downstairs to pass on his intense, yet routine, workout.

I felt like things were going good.

Up until this very second.

Today, a cold and icy Thursday, is the final day of the Dauntless initiation. I awoke to Eric's alarm going off, and over coffee, he informed me we'd be going down there to watch the fear landscapes.

I have no clue what any of this is.

Even now, as Eric's fingers brush the skin along the juncture of my neck and shoulder, I still don't know why the initiates can't just be accepted. In Amity, they were all just members. We had a huge party, but even if your scores were dismal, like mine, odds were, you still became a member.

"I am. Are you?"

I crane my head up to look at him, and he smiles. The anger over the dinner has waned, and he's been much happier. Even now, his smirk is pleased, and he touches my jaw carefully.

"Always."

We leave together. I catch sight of us in the mirror, our dark uniforms the same and our posture echoing each other's. My hair is pulled up on the sides, and it hangs down long, blending into the heavy coat. I like this version of me, though I loathe the pants. I'd skipped them altogether in favor of leggings, and Eric looked amused at his.

He looks amused now, as he brushes his lips against mine and lowly announces everyone will be there. I follow Eric out of the apartment, to the elevator, and up to one of the higher levels of Dauntless. I find myself excited, but nervous.

I wasn't even going through their initiation, but in some ways, I felt like I was.

Despite the sunlight pouring in through large windows, the mood is intense.

The room where the fear landscapes are held is freezing. It's vast and expansive, an industrial blend of metal beams and brick walls and geometric windows. The initiates are grouped together in small clumps, talking amongst themselves. There is some excitement, but mostly nerves. Jake stands with Karl and a few others, and a girl with long blonde hair tugs on his arm. He throws her a small smile, but immediately goes back to whispering to Karl. The two of them nod, but they look up when Lauren walks in.

She looks annoyed.

It must be her usual expression.

She surveys the room quickly but doesn't stop. She heads straight over to Max, standing with Jason and Rylan, and next to them is Four. He looks out of place as he surveys the class he once trained, and I wonder who brought him down here.

A quick glance around doesn't find Tris, only more initiates, filing in to fill all the empty space.

"Before you ask, Max insisted he be here. Though Four hasn't trained them in some time," Eric lowly informs me, and we walk right through the middle of the class. They all turn to look at me, some in pure, raw jealousy, and others in total confusion, but they don't move. "Tris is working today, so Jason has agreed to keep him busy. They're hoping maybe watching one or two of the landscapes will jar his memory."

"What do they have to do?" My hand is in Eric's, and he doesn't let go. He walks with total arrogance, and I can't even begin to mimic how confident he is. I smile at a few who smile at me, and it hits me that had I picked Dauntless, I would have been amongst them. "Eric?"

"They're injected with a serum which causes them to face their worst fears. They work through a series of them, one by one. Each initiate is scored on how they react and how long it takes them. Some are quick, others are drawn out." He answers evenly, and Rylan breaks his oddly professional posture to wave. "They'll all make it, but they're scored on how well they do."

I immediately try to think of what my own fears would be.

Landon, for sure.

Being murdered on a dirt pathway while Zander watched might be second.

Eric, admitting this was all for show and he would be dragging me in to be tested would definitely be one. I imagine it would be my number one fear, right up there with him announcing this had been fun, but he was over it.

Carole would probably be there, too.

A flock of chickens, talons primed at my face.

"Have you done it?" I hold on tighter, and I hear Jason tell Four it's good to see him. Four stares at him like he's insane, and his answer is a shrug of dismissal. "Is it hard?"

"Depends. Mine wasn't," Eric answers offhandedly, and we come to a stop in front of Max.

He greets us warmly, and he makes sure I'm looking when he smiles. "Good morning, Eric. Everly. You look…nice."

He likes the uniform. He takes in Eric and me with approval, and his stare lingers on my hand in Eric's. Just for a moment. Then he snaps back to Dauntless leader and instructs Tori to see if Lauren needs help. "Is she ready? I know it's been a lot for her to have both classes. We're just waiting on Jeanine."

"I'm fine. They're all ready. I did the best I could with Four's class."

Lauren shows up like she was waiting for this moment. Her hair is less severe today. She throws me one haughty stare, but it falls when she realizes my jacket is a smaller version of Eric's. Hers is a plain one, black and leather, and she struggles to hide her scowl.

I struggle to hide my intense nausea at the name Jeanine. I hadn't been expecting her to be here, or for her name to be thrown out so casually. I focus on Eric's hand, warm and much larger than mine, and I try not to focus on how cold it is in here.

"Does he remember anything yet? Or is he still our resident clueless wonder?" Lauren ignores my smile of hello, and gestures at Four. "Hello? Four?"

"What? It's great to see you again…Laura." He's unimpressed by her, but he faintly smiles at me. It's completely out of sheer politeness, and nothing more. "Hi Everly."

"Hi Four."

I hold onto Eric tighter, but I stand up straight. I do my best not to look at Lauren, now seething as she informs Max of the order the initiates are ranked, but it grows impossible when Jeanine walks in the room and makes a beeline toward us. I would expect her to look at the new members of the faction, but her stare immediately lands on me; it's as stiff as her coat, and just as intimidating. There is nothing to her but pure professionalism, and a healthy dose of superiority.

She breaks her scrutiny to glance back at the initiates, but returns her focus to me almost immediately.

"My apologies for being late. My meeting ran over," she greets mostly Max, and her eyes narrow at the sight of Eric. "I was expecting to see you this morning. Did we not confirm a representative from Dauntless would be in attendance?"

"Jeremy went. Everyone else was busy," Eric answers without a trace of interest. "Was there something needing my immediate attention?"

The standoff between them is new. He looks down at her, fantastic at deflecting her gaze, and dismissive. He's unbothered as ever when she doesn't look away, and he makes it perfectly clear he had no plans of being in said meeting. "Did you need something else?"

"I'll email you directly."

She doesn't look away from him for a moment. She calculates something in her head, tilting it ever so slightly, then she presses her lips together and eyes me. The look she tosses in my direction is a lot like Blythe's: annoyed and unimpressed. She stares until there's a click of recognition, and her lips part.

"You must be…"

She doesn't say my name. It's like she can't, like it's a bad word and she's too polite for such a thing.

"I'm Everly," I reach my free hand out to her, hoping to appear polite. The few members of Erudite I've interacted with really seem to like social niceties. "It's…nice to meet you."

My lie is as heavy as the feeling in my stomach. I half wonder if Eric gave me the uniform to camouflage me here. While tough and invincible feeling, it turned me into one of the Dauntless soldiers. There is no soft dress or pretty skirt to make me stand out, only a dark uniform which everyone else has on, in varying shades of severity. It offered a moment of anonymity. A quick glance in my direction would lead one to think I belonged here. A longer inspection might raise a few questions, but it was enough of a deterrent for most.

"Eric, do you have time for a word? I think –"

She doesn't take my hand, nor does she acknowledge me past asking my name. She turns on her heel to face Eric, and she's cut off by him shaking his head.

"We're about to begin. We can talk later."

He dismisses her with the scarcest hint of concern. He motions for Lauren to start the final process of initiation, and he only lets go of my hand when Rylan has him come look at something on his phone. I wind up standing by Four, and he cocks his head to the side, eyeing Jeanine with great displeasure.

After a second, he nudges me with his elbow.

"You been through this already? Do you know what they're going to do?"

"They're going to inject them," I answer quietly, and the show begins by Lauren sighing in exasperation that Rylan needs to step away from the computer. "Eric said it's a fear landscape. Each one works through their worst fears. I think the leaders watch and score them."

"Interesting," Four mutters, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"Do you remember any of your fears?" I wonder if his mother is one of them, or if he was only afraid she'd be disappointed, even in death. "Or your –"

"No," Four knocks me out of the way to step aside, and he glances down with zero apology. "I don't…I can't remember them. Or being here. Did you do it?"

I'm not sure why he's fixated on whether or not I've gone through this initiation, but maybe he's just trying to piece everything together.

Either way, I wait until Jeanine looks away from me, and I lowly inform him no.

"Why does everyone here have long hair?"

Four leans against the counter of the kitchen with an air of disdain. He watches the workers zoom past us, their arms full of large trays to prepare for lunch. We've already been offered a few things. When we showed up, the kitchen staff was eating a hurried lunch prepared by Quinten himself, and he instructed us to hang out in the kitchen and have some ice cream while he went to see if the leaders were taking a break.

They were still watching the fear landscapes.

At first, I was interested in the process.

Jason stood at the computer, selecting the initiate's name and typing a few quick notes. Lauren waited until he was ready before she injected anyone, and her movements were precise. Each initiate got a full syringe of a serum, and they barely moved. A few blinked out of pure reactionary movement, but most of the ones I watched didn't even move. A few seconds would pass before their gazes grew distant, then their eyes closed.

On the screens before us, terrifying scenarios blossomed one by one. I stood awestruck as the first initiate, a boy named CJ, fell off the edge of a building. My stomach turned over as he dug his nails into the sides to try and stop himself, and the bloody mess bled right into his second fear. His leg was the next casualty, followed by his head smashing into the ground with a sickening thud.

It didn't really get better from there.

The girl after him, a tall girl with dark blonde hair and a mean smile was afraid of bugs. The next girl was afraid of lightening, vampires, and oddly enough, wild animals. She finished her fear landscape with a full body gasp, a retching sound, and Rylan quickly ushered her out of the room. I inched closer to Eric when Karl went, and while he handled his fears easily, it felt too personal to watch. His father died, taking his last gasping breath while Karl couldn't get to him, and his family fell apart. His little brother was shot. His mother hated him. All of this mixed in with darkness –pure, black darkness – and something growling.

By the time we got to bloody eyeballs and a fear of heights so bad my heart felt like it might burst from beneath my ribcage, Eric noticed I wasn't doing so well. My hands felt clammy, and the girl whose fear landscape included her eyes bleeding was my size. A little taller, a little stronger, but I could have been in her place. I tried to tough it out so I could be prepared in case I had to go through one, but Eric took me by the elbow, said we'd be back, and escorted me into the hallway.

Jeanine stayed.

She hung out in the back, observing with clinical precision. I tried to figure out what she was watching for, but for the most part, nothing fazed her. She blinked, frowned, and tilted her head when something displeased her. Every so often, her stare slipped over to me, oily and fast, and I really didn't like her. I didn't know her at all, but it seemed like she had it out for me.

That didn't help, either.

I felt much better in the coldness of the dark, until Eric roughly told me he had to stay for the rest. He assured me they were completely safe; these simulations were one hundred percent in their heads, and not a single one would be harmed. I didn't have the heart or the guts to tell him I found them horrifying, but I didn't have to. Rylan bounced over with Four, and very delicately informed us Four had pushed a few buttons and shut down the entire thing.

He was trying to help.

He thought Jason wasn't going fast enough, but rather than speed something up –an unnecessary moment in any initiate's simulation –he shut it down.

The end result was Four and I were sent to go see if lunch was ready while they tried to fix whatever he'd touched. Once Quinten returned to the kitchens, he cheerfully mass produced grilled cheese after grilled cheese for the faction. Now, I sat on the counter while Four sighed into a bowl of vanilla ice cream and every so often, smiled dully at whoever bumped into him.

"Are you…" I pause when he looks up, and he's more Tobias in this moment than ever. Defiant and angry by my question. "What?"

"Don't ask me if I'm fine. I'm not," he spits out, and he doesn't even eat his ice cream. "I still don't remember anything so don't even ask. I know you were going to."

He glares at me, more infuriated than I've ever seen him.

"I'm just –"

"Concerned? I don't want to hear it. If it's not you, it's everyone else in this faction."

"Okay," I glance down at my boots, and I wonder if Eric is almost done. This day was not going how I planned. I was happy to step away with Four, even relieved at the idea of some time away from the simulations. I had thought maybe I could be friends with Four, but he seemed to loathe the mere sight of me. "I'm sorry. I won't ask you anything else. I was just asking in case it had worn off some."

"It hasn't."

We lapse into silence. He makes a strange sound, sort of like he's clearing his throat, and I swirl the ice cream around with my spoon.

I was still toying with the idea of calling Daniel. His name was in my phone, like some strange secret meant for no one else. It would be easy to call him. I could imagine the phone connecting immediately; he'd either answer, or I'd get his voicemail and I could leave a message. I rehearsed what I would say in my head. I'd make it sound professional, like maybe I'd been told to call him, and when things were normal -thanks to me- both Four and Tris would be thrilled.

But now, sitting across from him while he didn't want to be here, I decide against it.

It was unlikely Daniel could help, anyway.

"I'm sorry."

I look up to one anguished stare, aimed right at me. It's heavy. His eyes don't blink while he frowns, and he looks miserable. He waits for me to answer him, but I'm not sure what he wants. "Everly?"

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything."

"For…being an asshole to you. I know you didn't do any of this. You've…been nicer than most people here. I'm just sick of hearing that I don't know what's going on, and I'm sick of everyone acting like I'm a moron." He crosses his arms over his chest, and he still looks put out. "Are you friends with Tris? She said you were trying to help me and I should be nice to you."

I stay silent.

I swirl the ice cream around again, harder, pretending its Four's head.

"I said I was sorry!" He protests, like this will make everything just fine. "I don't know what you want me to tell you. I don't even like ice cream."

"I'm not…. I'm not really good friends with her. I don't think she likes me a ton, but I did offer to help. Eric's father helped my father. I thought maybe he could help you. I was going to call him but…"

"But what?" He waits for my answer with the patience of no one. "You don't want to now? Because I told you not to ask how I am?"

"No, it's not that. I told you, I won't ask how you are. I don't think Eric's parents like me very much. Remember how you asked if we were married?" I smash his imaginary head down completely, and he nods slowly. "Well, we are, but…it's complicated. His mom isn't good with it at all, and I think… I think his dad just has to go along with whatever she wants. So, I don't think he'd help me. Not now."

Confessing this out loud is insane.

I haven't even talked to Eric about it, but there's some relief to telling someone.

"Why? You're incredibly nice. And you like Eric, which is odd considering he's an arrogant dick," Four snaps, and I force myself not to laugh. "I don't need my memory back to know that. He saunters around like he owns the place. There's no reason for him to be so haughty. I keep waiting to hear he's being demoted."

"I don't think he could be demoted if he tried," I answer honestly, and my track record for dining with others continues to be a dumpster fire. "I just….you and I talked in Amity a few times. I thought maybe we'd be friends someday. Or maybe not. In Amity, everyone is friends no matter what. But this isn't Amity. So…we don't have to be friends. In fact, I'm gonna go home and I'll let you have your space. I'm sure you can find your way back to your apartment."

"So you're leaving me here?"

I slide down off the counter, and I set the bowl of ice cream down. "I hope things work out between you and Tris."

"Everly, wait –"

Four's demand isn't so much a demand as it is a plea, but I don't hang around to hear it.

Having his memory erased gave him every reason in the world to be pissed off, but I didn't know why he was so mad at me. I hadn't done anything to him, unless he could hazily put together his mother had come for me first, then him out of pure retaliation.

I don't focus on it for too long.

I make it halfway back to Eric's apartment when I find Harrison looking for me.

"You don't look very good."

Harrison eyes me with complete suspicion. I nod at him, and I silently accept the drink he's ordered for me. His own bar is quiet right now; with the initiation coming to an end, almost all the members are preparing for the party tonight. On the walk over here, Harrison told me once initiation is over, Dauntless celebrates with a night of partying.

My eyes widened at the idea, and he smiled.

"You watched the fear landscapes, didn't you?" Harrison nudges the drink closer to me, and he's dressed casually. "I told Eric not to have you watch them. They can be disturbing. Half the time, the fears change drastically from their first run through. Tris watched them a few times during her control room training. She threw up after a particularly bad one."

"Does everyone have to watch them?" I stare back in horror, and I take a slow sip of the drink.

I have to admit, I feel better now. Being away from the simulations and Four had lessened my crappy mood, and my stomach wasn't entirely so upset. I couldn't figure out which one had upset me more: watching Karl stumble out of the chair looking visibly ill but pretending he was fine, or Four, snapping at me to leave him alone.

"Did you eat lunch? You look pale." Harrison waves Lucy back to our table, and he orders for both of us. "Let me explain something about why Eric brought you down there. I've been meaning to talk to you about him anyway."

He waits until Lucy leaves, then leans across the table. "I know Jeanine is here. That's never good. But he's showing her he doesn't give a fuck about what she says. Eric, and I give him credit for this, is trying to give you a whirlwind introduction to Dauntless so you'll stay with him. If he was going to be in a relationship of any kind with anyone else, they'd know this place like the back of their hand. They wouldn't be afraid or nervous. But you're not from here nor are you required to go through our initiation process. So, he's trying to show you everything and praying you don't run. Imagine knowing that in order to stay here, a team of total strangers is going to watch all your worst fears on a screen, then critique how well you handle them? He's afraid you're gonna bolt. He's doing the best he can to show you what he does without freaking you out."

"I'm not going to bolt," I don't know who I'm promising this to, Harrison or the ghost of Eric. "I just…it was hard to watch them all. The ones with Karl's family made my stomach hurt. I guess I wasn't expecting that. Or the blood. I didn't like the one where the guy's fingers snapped backward."

"That could make you sick," he shrugs. "Most people don't see things like that every day. Jason and Rylan are desensitized to it all. They've seen insane fears and stupid fears. Things like, being afraid of clouds or losing your shoe. They've seen worse things than what you saw. Eric should have warned you, but my guess is he forgot they can be intense."

"So what does this have to do with Eric?" I take another sip, and I feel completely normal now. "I've been doing a lot of new things here. I want people to know I belong in this faction. I thought if I went with Four to Amity I could prove I belonged in Dauntless and I've been trying to do what Eric does. I went running with him and he trained me how to shoot a gun. I went to the gym. Once."

Harrison is quiet. He examines the drink in front of him, and he nods. "He said you were more than proficient at handling a firearm. He was impressed, which is rare."

"You knew?" I immediately feel stupid, because Eric mentioned Harrison had agreed to the training. "You know everything, don't you?"

"I know he's training you in a few areas which will keep you alive. I disagreed with giving you his uniform. Unless you want to be a leader here." Harrison looks up, and his smile is genuine. "You can do whatever you want here. They'll all back you."

"I haven't even thought about it," I answer honestly, scrambling to think of a job I could do. "What if I don't find anything right away? Am I even qualified?"

"Please. You're more qualified than half the people here. It doesn't take much to run a store or file paperwork. Eric won't care what you do. He'll be more than happy if you sit at home and wait for him. I reminded him you left Amity for that very reason, but he has good intentions. For once."

"How is Amity? How's my mom?" I smile when Lucy drops off my lunch, and to my surprise, it's a heaping plate of spaghetti. "This is for me?"

"You need some calories. I'll have to ask Coulter what he's feeding you. Yes, it's all for you. Your mom is fine. She's struggling with being happy your father is alright and horrified he was the one who wanted to leave." Harrison takes a bite of his hamburger, which is an impressive display of culinary skill, and he shrugs. "She was committed to sticking with him until it got to be too much. I don't think she thought he would be the one to make that decision."

"Is he okay?" I slowly eat a forkful of spaghetti, and it's good. Better than I expected. "Hank?"

"Totally fine. His new home is beautiful. A little less family oriented but there's room for everyone. He looks happy, he seems to be almost back to normal, and he said he can't wait to get back to work."

"You saw him?"

"We had coffee this morning. I brought him a welcome back gift." Harrison shrugs, like it was totally normal to bring the love of your life's ex-husband a glad you're alive present . "I offered my help if he needed anything. I have some free time. Johanna had an easy job. You want a job there? You could run Amity."

His joke makes me smile.

"No thanks. I don't want to be in charge of the chickens," I reach for my drink, and something hits me. "Are you staying there? As their official leader? It would make no sense for you to do it temporarily if you're good at it."

He considers his answer for a few bites. "I haven't decided. I might take it permanently. I could stay close to your mom and Zander. Forrest. Willow is looking much better these days."

"Is she still sick?" I lean forward, and his words trigger a whole slew of memories from Amity. And some guilt. I'd completely forgotten Willow was pregnant, but not for any reason other than I'd been busy. "Is Forrest happy you're there?"

"Thrilled. We went out to scout the border of the woods. I wanted to make sure I had everything accurate on this ancient map Johanna gave me. She was way off. But Willow is fine. She's feeling much better. She said to tell you hello, and she misses you."

"Tell her I miss her, too." There's no wistfulness in my tone, because I five thousand percent do not want to go back. But I do miss my family, especially Forrest. "Zander must be thrilled you're there."

"He is. He's a little…confused now that Hank is back. I have no interest in taking over for Hank, but I want Zander to know the truth." Harrison grabs his coffee, then glances at his watch. "I told him it'll work out. He's to listen to Hank when Hank is around. So far, Hank's been busy getting moved in and fending off Carole's advances to let her use his property for a second chicken farm."

He says this with a smirk, and I try not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

The weird and secret life of my father, my real father, and the family in the middle is complicated. I imagine it would be easier if one of them wasn't in Amity, and if Harrison stays, then it makes things a little trickier.

But not impossible.

"I hope things work out okay. I think they will," I answer him quietly, and he smiles in reassurance.

"They'll be fine. I might be back here for a few months anyway. It seems like we get one thing handled, and something else pops up."

Harrison's words feel ominous, at least to me. We lapse into comfortable silence while we eat, and every so often, I feel him sneak a peek at me. When I do look up, he smiles.

Warmly.

"You're doing okay? You promise? Because if he's not behaving, I can take care of him. He might be in charge, but Eric still has to listen to some of us." He threatens Eric cheerfully, even though he isn't here. "I'm keeping my eye on him. I just want to make sure you're happy. Nothing else matters to me. The minute he pisses you off, you let me know. I've smacked him in the head before and I'll do it again."

I can't help but smile back. "Thanks. I'm really good. Eric is…there's a lot more to him than anyone thinks. It's got to be weird for him to have someone here."

"Oh, it is. He looks happy, though. From what I've heard, he's pretty content with you being in Dauntless. Seems to be scowling less per hour."

"You know I only know him because I bumped into him? This whole thing started when I walked into him in Amity," I confess this out of nowhere, wondering if Harrison thought I knew Eric from a time before. "Given the circumstances, and my arrest, it's working out just fine."

Harrison smiles even wider.

We both know the arrest is bullshit, and my name on the paperwork isn't even my name now.

"Something tells me you won't have much to deal with in terms of the arrest," he winks, but Lucy shows up to ask if he wants the check. They talk for a few minutes, catching up on how things are going, and Harrison looks pleased with whatever she's telling him.

I keep eating. I take a few more bites of spaghetti, and I stop only when my phone beeps.

Eric's message is a bummer, but I understand.

I return to watching Harrison insist Lucy bring him some bill, and I quietly inform him Eric said the fear landscapes will stretch on into the afternoon.

Which is fine.

It means I can stay here with Harrison, slowly finishing lunch, and enjoying the time before he returns to Amity.

Harrison walks me home.

I want to ask him if he still has an apartment here, but I'm sure he does. It's unlikely he's permanently moved everything he owns to Amity, and even less likely he'd make such a rash decision so quickly. He talks about anything and everything while we take the stairs, and I listen to every single word.

He's done a lot in his time here.

He explains how the missions are broken up, how soldiers can put their name in for routes that are more dangerous to advance their standing in the faction. He gives me a few glimpses into Eric's job, explaining Eric is the most preferred contact for the factions. He is direct and blunt and doesn't buy into the faction politics. He doesn't have any patience for behind the scenes drama, and most leaders appreciate this. He goes on to say the Dauntless alliance with Erudite is currently shaky, and Eric's disinterest in the faction is strangely personal.

But still expected.

Harrison lets it slip Eric is going there in a few days, and it will likely take up his entire schedule.

"Will you be here tomorrow?"

We come to a stop in front of Eric's apartment, and I wait for Harrison to assure me he will. I'm hoping he is, because maybe we could have breakfast, and he could tell me more about Eric.

"I'm heading back to Amity now. I just swung by to see Max. I'd like a few more soldiers if he can spare them." Harrison rocks back on his heels and he looks down at me. "Will you be okay until Eric is back? I can stay if you want, but I promised your mother I'd help her make dinner."

Their normalcy, though probably strange given the circumstances, is heartwarming. I like seeing him dedicated to her, and I like knowing he's going back to a full house. While odd for Paisley and Holly, and probably confusing for Leif and Wesley, it's not hard to like Harrison.

"I'll be fine. I think I might lie down and take a nap. Try to forget about severed fingers and bleeding heads," I half joke, but I'm hoping the memory fades quick. "Thank you for lunch."

"Anytime."

He hugs me goodbye. I've grown to dislike these hugs, though I know they don't bring much permanency. I just don't want him to leave, even though I know I'll see him again soon.

It takes Harrison a long time to let go. I watch him head down the hallway silently, and the urge to yell that I won't be okay until Eric is back is strong.

In the end, I don't give in to it.

I wait until he reaches the end of the hallway, and he turns back to look at me. We both wave at each other, neither moving, until his phone rings. I watch him head into the elevator, disappearing behind heavy silver doors, and then he's gone.

I pretend him leaving doesn't bother me, right up until the second I do fall asleep, dreaming of bloody fingers and loose eyeballs.

"What are you afraid of?"

In the evening, I sit on the edge of the roof with my feet dangling down. The night sky is dark, like a graveyard for the few stars hanging on and the occasional cloud drifting by. The sight is lovely but discouraging. Another storm means even colder weather, and less of a chance for sunny skies.

"What am I afraid of? Or what was I afraid of?" Eric stands behind me.

He's still dressed in his uniform from earlier, but his hair is less perfect. There's a hint of stress to him; it lingers in his posture, now slightly slumped, and his hair, wrecked from running his hands through it. He'd spent the afternoon with the initiation class, and the evening with Jeanine. Unable to escape her since she was physically here, he hadn't returned until now.

I'd come up here with Rylan on some mission to find Jason, but Rylan left the second his phone rang. He yelled at me not to fall off the roof or Eric would kill him, then swore he'd be right back.

"Both."

I stare up at the sky, pulling my arms in closer, and I wonder if he'll answer me. Secrets were his thing, and I was starting to understand why. It wasn't just the mystery of not wanting to tell someone, or the aura of disinterest. They kept him safe. Invincible. Indestructible. The less you knew about a person, the less ammunition you had against them. You could ask and demand whatever from him, but it was his choice to answer.

I was finding him to be very selective with what he'd reveal.

The silence of his non-answer spans an entire minute. I can feel him behind me, staring at the back of my head, and when I think he's about to walk away, he speaks.

"Failure. The shame that goes along with it." Eric's answer is thin, but honest. He takes a step closer, reaching for me so I don't fall to my death. "Being forced to live in Abnegation."

That particular answer is humorless.

I crane my head up to look at him, and he's unsmiling.

"Death without purpose. The usual."

"What about other things? Spiders? The dark? Clowns?"

"I'm surrounded by clowns. I have no reason to fear them," he retorts, and he's behind me before I can blink. He sits down easily, then pulls me back against him. "I don't have any reason to fear the dark. Why are you asking?"

"I'm just curious. I was wondering what mine would be," I think out loud, not sure if I truly want to know. "Has anyone not made it through their fear landscape?"

"A few," he answers distractedly, dropping his head down to rest against mine. "Why? You want to go through one? I'm sure Lauren would love to inject you and see what you're made of."

"No thanks," I shake my head, and my foot slips from the side of the building for one dizzying moment. I flash back to CJ's fear landscape, and his slide down a building while his skin scraped away to the bone. "Do I have to? In order to stay here?"

"No." He mutters, and his fingers press wherever they can. I ditched the uniform jacket the minute I could. I found one of Eric's hoodies shoved back in his closet, and I threw it over my shirt. It smelled like him, or what one would imagine he smelled like. Dark, rich, aloof. Also like whatever Carol had washed it in. "If you want to, you can. Some people like to revisit them to see if they've changed."

"Have yours?" I lean back into the solidness of him, feeling the heavy exhale of his sigh. "Yeah?"

"I haven't gone through one in forever. I'm sure if I did, it would be different." He pauses when my fingers touch his, and I press the same way he likes to. "More…personal and less…"

"Impersonal?" I guess, and he laughs.

It's strange to hear such normal reactions from him. This past week has shown me his emotions run quite the gamut. Sometimes he was furious, and sometimes he was less furious.

It was never aimed at me.

I was slowly discovering he struggled to separate how he acted, no matter how hard he tried.

"Eric…" I wait for him to nod, and the temperature changes. The slow burn of the cold increases, then seems to drop when his mouth brushes against my cheek. "Did you marry me and not tell me?"

His nod is immediate.

"I knew it," I shake my head in triumph, and I can feel him grinning. "I thought I told you I was never marrying anyone."

"It's for safety purposes. You'll just have to trust me on this one. Besides, you're too young, remember?" He teases right back, and his words fizzle into the dark. "I can keep you safe. No one else can. No one else even tried. And don't even pretend you can keep yourself out of trouble."

"I don't think anyone would believe me even if I could," I confess, and the stars above us grow brighter. It might be my eyes playing tricks on me, or maybe I'm still mentally tired from watching the simulations. "Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I supposed to figure it out on my own?"

"I was going to tell you when you'd been here longer. So it didn't seem sudden," he answers my hair, and this exhale is just as heavy. "I didn't want you to think it was for the wrong reasons."

I wondered what he considered the right reasons for marriage.

A factional alliance, perhaps.

To stay out of danger.

Certainly not because of love.

"When did you do it?"

"The day after your arrest," he tries to keep the same serious tone in his voice, but it's thick with stress. "There was some interest in why you were fighting a guy in Amity. This way, if they tried to find you, they'd see you were in custody."

"They won't notice my name has been changed?" I point out, but he's distracting me. His mouth lingers below my ear, and he presses there until I squirm. "Eric!"

"They might. Or whoever's looking at it might be too dumb to realize it's you. Jeanine's assistants aren't the brightest."

"Does she know who I am? And why I'm here?" I gasp when he pulls me back violently, and I ready myself to fall right into the black abyss. "Shit."

"You're fine. I've got you," he promises, low and rich. "She does know who you are and why you're here. She's not happy, but seeing as how we've absorbed the Amity faction, there's not much she can do."

"So Dauntless has Amity now?"

"You could say that." He's not so distracted now. He pushes closer, kicking my foot with his. "Why are you up here? Did you get sick of being inside?"

The insult is hidden in his tone. I imagine he sometimes feels trapped here, stuck beneath heavy layers of Earth masquerading as armor, but it would feel personal if I did.

"Rylan asked if I wanted to go for a walk and help him look for Jason. He came up here and I decided to sit while he went inside. I think Christina called him," I slide my fingers back through his, winding them tightly in case he tries to let go. "It's nice out here. Cold, but sort of nice."

"You should be freezing," he reminds me, and we are both quiet as the wind howls. It's violent up here, thrashing against crumbling metal and ancient plaster, and I swear it shakes the very bones of the building. "Everly –"

"Do you think you'll ever fall in love with me? Maybe someday? If I can take you in a fight?" I interrupt him, but this is important. The paperwork I'd found was official. Officially official. My guess was if I wanted to leave, it would take more to dissolve this marriage than just saying goodbye and asking to move apartments. Eric had given me the permanence we both wanted, he just couldn't say it.

I would bet on a million falling stars, burning and fading before my very eyes, he wouldn't say it now.

"You want me to tell you I love you?" he answers thickly, lying through perfectly straight teeth. "It's only been…"

When he pauses, I feel the ache he can't voice. The timing of our relationship is questionably short. Sure, it spanned months. Weeks, when the mere thought of him kept me sane. Days, when the idea of seeing him made me dizzy. Minutes, when he was the only one concerned I'd live. It wasn't anywhere near long enough to announce he loved me, but mostly because he had no clue how.

Asking someone whose entire existence is rooted in blood and abandonment was only asking for trouble.

It's a risk I'm willing to take.

"What if I can take you in a fight? Will you admit it then? For the…the sanctity of our marriage?" I say this quietly, happy when he lets out of a huff of exasperation. His fingers tighten on mine, curling into cold skin.

He tilts his head back to rest on mine, heartbeat after heartbeat, until the silence encompasses us both.

"Yes."

The darker side of Eric is not the violent one.

It's not the one who rules his faction by day and hunts Divergents by night, but the one who cannot bring himself to admit he actually feels things. To him, human emotion is the ultimate weakness. I see this as he lies beneath me, the barest hints of his mother sneering when my fingers graze the sharp cut of his cheekbone, and the easy detachment of his father when he swats my hand away.

Tonight, he does not want anything soft or kind.

After confessing there was the potential for him to be in love, he'd all but dragged me into his apartment. There was a blur of fabric as he yanked the hoodie over my head, and his fingers pried the waistband of the leggings away. He was impatient at best; the long sleeved shirt –a nod to Lauren who loathed my very guts –was discarded without care. My underwear was kicked to the side, covering a pair of boots waiting to be selected.

He was fast and hungry, eager to show me he didn't have to care to like me.

Oh, but he did.

Even as his fingers dig into my hips, moving on their own while my head falls back, he can't help but keep his eyes on me. His stare is intense, but indulgent. He likes this view, me on top of him, him buried deeply inside, not giving a single fuck that Arlene had failed to call either one of us. He liked the idea of us together, a tiny family in a roar of men and women bred to outdo each other. It doesn't take a genius to realize he wants all of this, the lust and the glory and my fingers lightly skimming over his lips, right along with him and me away from everyone.

"I should get off you," I mumble, and my own thoughts are a blur. My mind tries to remind me of the important things: no birth control, no condoms, not even a single mention of his upcoming orgasm, currently threatening with each tense of his thighs.

A bigger part of me told it to shut up.

The part that wanted him to love me, that realized I could stay here forever, proving my place as a soldier and his wife, knew it wouldn't be enough if he couldn't admit he cared about me on a deeper level.

He was trying.

I might have been asking too much in this moment. A declaration of love wasn't what I'd ever meant to ask for, but he'd helped me down off the roof and held me in front of him, and I saw it. The confusion fading away to reveal something more than lust, more than basic, fleeting affection, more than marrying me to keep me away from Jeanine. I hadn't pushed any of it, because I didn't need to.

The rough way he pulled me on top of him said everything I needed to know, right along with the way his fingers touched my jaw.

"Don't fucking move."

He grunts this at me, his eyes half hooded and his lip between his teeth as he fights off the urge to give in. His hands move from my hips to my waist, up my ribcage, over the swell of my breasts. He stays there, fingers splayed while his hips move to a sloppily rhythmic pace, and he lowly hisses my name.

Everly sounds different these days.

He moves his hand between my legs, and my groan mirrors his.

"Say it. Say my name," he demands, like there was someone else before him. There wasn't. He's the only person I've ever done this with and he knows it. The very idea makes him pleased, stroking harder, then softer, watching my reaction closely. "Aren't you going to say you love me?"

My eyes open, expecting a smirk or a lingering sneer, but instead, he's watching me with parted lips. He leans up, the muscles in his chest tightening and his shoulders tensing, and he tears his hand away to grasp me by the hair. I'm pulled forward, but the feeling of him is still too good to think of anything else.

"Do I love you?" I ask against his lips, barely able to form coherent thoughts. "Is that what you want to hear?"

He doesn't answer me. He holds on tightly, grasping fistfuls of hair as I gasp his name, and he knows what he's doing.

"Come on, Everly. Stop playing around," he is smirking now, and he lets go to move one hand to my throat. He stays there, somehow less affected by this than I am, and his smile is triumphant when my eyes close. "So pretty."

I pay no attention to him.

I give in to the sensation of the world exploding. The drunk feeling of him groaning my name in a desperate way, and his hands tightening. I give in to the white lights, the whisper of his name slipping from my lips over and over, and his low and oh so quiet hiss asking if I'm alright.

I am alright.

I'm better than alright.

I feel alive, burning and on fire with the realization that not only would I be just fine here, but that Eric Coulter wanted me to love him, if only so he could love me.


	25. The Consequence of My Own Actions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bamberlee for editing!

There is great melancholy in all heartache.

It doesn't discriminate in any way, nor does it slow or lessen given the circumstances. I feel it swallow me whole when Harrison calls to tell me he's back in Amity, and the sheer agony of being apart from him makes my heart hurt. It's weird to long for someone I don't know, not really, but the familiar connection is there, stronger than I'd ever believed possible.

I feel the same heartache when Eric leaves for work on a dark morning and I do not. My place in Dauntless might not be in an office or walking a patrol route, not yet. Maybe never. But I don't want him to leave, not after last night, not after broken stars having promised him to me and the way he lingered to say goodbye without actually saying it.

I feel the same heartache –tangible and slicing –when I run into Tris and Four walking down the hallway. Their story is not mine, nor is it anything I'm familiar with. Rylan and Christina slipped in secret hints about what had happened, some good, some bad, all interesting, and other pieces nothing more than a laugh that neither of them would have ever imagined this would happen.

Four is still wonderfully clueless about his life here. Even with the intense chart Rylan made for him, one which ranked Four's select friends by numerical order –including himself as number one and an incorrect map in which all pathways lead him to Eric's office, Four was lost. His eyes were slowly losing the spark of interest in anything but Tris. Jason was forced to have Four walk with one of the squads. He was hesitant to arm him but unwilling to let him get injured, and he picked the safest, most boring route, all in hopes of forcing memories of his life here. It resulted in nothing. A squabble over why Four was not issued a weapon he could undoubtedly shoot and a further argument where Jason announced he couldn't trust him.

Others tried.

Kacie had him work a shift. He quickly grew bored with watching Dauntless but zeroed in on Harrison in Amity. He watched the trees for a while, until Kacie realized there was a small group of factionless gathering, and in a panic, quickly pushed him home while trying to diffuse a situation no one else on her team had noticed.

Arlene sent her regards.

Max hid in his office.

Quinten made Four his favorite dinner. He stopped by to drop off dinner for Eric and myself right after, turning up his nose at the thought of bland chicken and blander mashed potatoes. Eric smirked into his own carefully crafted culinary delight; with every slice of a steak which looked close to still being alive, he smugly applauded his superior appetite and his own brilliant grasp on what was going on. There was no agreement there: Four might have liked his dinner, but despite Quinten's best efforts, it wasn't bringing his memory back.

But this might.

I press myself closer to the jagged wall, and I clutch the heavy book in my arms as I try to blend into the dark. It is impossible, but not entirely.

From my vantage point, a disturbingly deep alcove that gave way to the corner, I watch Four and Tris without them seeing me. My back presses against the cool rock, and I stay silent, holding on to the novel I'd found in Eric's room. It was a story about a haunted pet cemetery. I found it an odd choice for him to read, but it had a note from Jason stuck in it, thanking Eric for his help on some project.

I planned on taking it to lunch to read, but I have new plans now.

Better plans, which include watching Four try to figure out what's going on.

Their conversation drifts over to me thanks to the high ceiling and slick floors, and at first, it's nothing crazy. A mumbled confirmation of Four's father in Abnegation, and a muttered agreement that he was safer here than there. A single irritated bark that he had no intention of leaving Dauntless, though someone must have suggested this at some point. I try to listen for his father's name, but it's lost when they stop walking and Tris asks Four if he remembers her.

Or anything about her.

His silence is painful.

The unfairness of the situation is compounded by the hope in her voice. Since I saw her last, she'd been avoiding Jeremy as if her life depended on it. She was the dedicated person making sure Four stayed alive and unharmed, and I wondered if someone had asked her to, or if this was a personal choice. Maybe she felt like she owed him, or perhaps had some lingering guilt about their breakup. Or maybe she just wanted to help out.

I wonder a whole lot more when he lowly says no, and her heavy silence is broken by her saying she can't do this much longer.

"Shit!"

Neither of them hear my gasp.

I leave the wall for a second to leap forward, but I stop when I see Four moving closer to her. He shakes his head back and forth, and his shoulders drop in utter defeat.

"Why? I was nice to Everly! I tried! She just jumped off the counter and left. You made it sound like you didn't even like her so what's the issue? Are you really that mad that I told her to leave me alone?"

The stab of insult is sharply personal. I wince it away, because really, she and I weren't exactly friends, and maybe my help wasn't enough for her.

"We aren't…I don't really know her. But she is nice, sure. Do you know Eric brought her here and married her without telling her? Did you know everyone thinks this story is hilarious? Not a single person has told Eric he can't do that. Even Christina loves her. She's always going on about how nice Everly is and how Eric is completely different with her. No one has explained that he might kill her in her sleep. Or pointed out Eric only wants her because –"

"Everly knows she's married," Four interrupts, and his seriousness makes me smile. "I told her to stop asking me if I was alright. I feel…like maybe I shouldn't have been mad at her. Maybe I should be mad at you. Because you keep getting close then leaving before I can figure out why."

"You couldn't figure it out before so it's not a surprise you can't figure it out now!"

We all freeze.

I stay perfectly still, watching Tris' horrified expression and wide eyes. Her hand flies to her mouth, and she turns a lovely shade of absolute white as she scrambles to shove the words back inside.

"What did you say?" Four closes the distance between them, and his head tilts the same way Eric's does when he's processing something. "What did I do to you before?"

"Nothing," Tris swears, but it's a clear lie. "Four, let's just go back home. I'll take you back to your apartment and you can….you can…"

"I can what? Wait around until I remember why you're making me walk the back-way home? I might not be able to remember things but I can see what's going on now," he answers lowly, but I can still hear him. "Are you going to marry him? Is that why you keep leaving?"

Four and I both wait.

He probably wouldn't appreciate me eavesdropping on their conversation like this, but I can't move. A large part of me wants her to tell him everything. Break up with Jeremy. Move in and take care of Four until he can remember who he is. Start over.

A larger part of me hopes I get to see them be happy.

Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

"Yes. Yes, I am. He asked me again and I couldn't tell him no."

Fuck.

This dose of melancholy is a punch to the stomach. Four steps away from her like she's struck him, and he holds one hand up to stop her when she says his name softly.

"Four…"

"No…just…no."

He retreats.

He turns on his heel, spinning around so fast he misses the way her face falls, and her hands ball into fists. Her answer is another lie; just as painful, just as strained. He doesn't get to see any of this, because he storms away in the direction they'd just come from. His eyes are dark, flashing with both rage and disappointment, and I want to tell him I understand completely.

But I don't.

I stay back against the wall, until Tris weakly calls his name again, only to be met with silence.

"Why do you care?"

Eric stares at his reflection in the mirror and his eyes flit over to me for a split second.

"Why _don't_ you care?" I stare back at him, his grey eyes narrowing to examine his cheek, and he throws me a look of disgust. "Isn't he…your…"

"I swear if you say Four is my friend, I will personally ship you back to Amity myself. I can have a truck ready in ten, tops."

"Well, you married me so now you can't. Though, I guess we could have separate residences," I shrug, and I reach up to fix the loose strap on my nightgown. I balance carefully on the edge of the vanity in the bathroom, though his sink is wide enough that it poses no real risk of me falling. "Is that allowed?"

"No, it's not."

He turns on the water, splashing his face a few times, and I watch him reach for a jar of something.

I'd come in here while he was getting ready to go to bed. I'd wanted to tell him about Tris and Four earlier, but our evening was nothing but interruptions. Eric made dinner, some sort of noodles and beef and vegetables that tasted way better than when I had made it, but Max called. We sat down to watch some show about people competing an obstacle course over water dyed to resemble fiery lava, and Jason called. Eric tried to get out of that one, but it proved impossible. Jason swore he saw…. Something. He claimed it was the elusive Chupacabra, per Harrison's confirmation, and Eric spent exactly thirteen minutes continually denying his request to rate this a higher security priority than the Amity border.

I thought I'd be able to talk to him when he hung up, but his next phone call was immediate.

It was Arlene, asking if I could come back downstairs to be retested.

Eric said yes.

I said no.

"He looked really sad when he stormed away," I confess, watching Eric lather his face with shaving cream. "Why are you shaving now? Aren't you going to bed?"

"He should be sad. Jeremy suggested if Four's memory does not return, he shouldn't stay here. He offered up the idea of him going back to Abnegation since he has no loyalty to Dauntless. And yes, you're going to bed. I have a meeting." Eric doesn't look at me, only his reflection. "It won't take long."

"What kind of meeting happens so late?" I stare up at him, disliking his shrug and wondering who on earth he was meeting that he felt the need to shave.

"It's seven thirty. Almost all the faction is still awake, except for you."

"I'm not asleep," I scowl, but I don't take my eyes off him. He scrapes the blade of the razor against his face, and the action is fascinating. "Why would Four go back to Abnegation?"

"His father is there. He's on their council. Jeremy's logic is we aren't responsible for him, so if Marcus wants him back, it's a solution that might work for all of us." Eric pauses to rinse the razor, and he looks at me. "What?"

"That's not a good idea, is it?" I don't know why, but my stomach turns over so sharply that I have to steady myself. "If he goes back there and doesn't remember anything?"

"No, it's not." Eric agrees easily, and my stomach tightens again. "We don't have any real stake in Abnegation, and one can get close unless we storm the place. Tris' father is on their council, so there's a chance he'd keep an eye out for him."

"I don't think you should do that," I insist, and I feel terrible for Four. "If his memory comes back, he'll just…come back here. So he should stay here."

Eric's side eye is intense.

"Are you forgetting he helped Evelyn form an army? Or the attack on Amity? Neither of those help his case. He has no one here. Everyone is just…babysitting him without any end in sight. Even Tris isn't responsible for him."

"Well," I sink back against the mirror, and Eric pauses to hear what I have to say. I appreciate this tremendously, but I don't know what to say. I don't know Four or Tris very well, but it doesn't seem right to just send him away as punishment for all this. "Can I help you?"

Eric stares.

His lips part open to say something, then he closes them for a few long seconds.

"With shaving or with Four?"

"Maybe I can help with both," I slide closer, and to my surprise, he hands me the razor blade. It looks lethal. Sharper than the one in his shower, and heavy. "This seems dangerous."

"It is. Try not to kill me. If I'm going to die, I'd like it to be honorable. Not at the hands of my four foot tall wife."

I smile at him in sheer exasperation, but I gesture for him to come closer. His skin is warm from the water, and I press my fingers to his cheek to get a better angle.

"Have you told anyone I'm your wife?"

I press the sharpest side of the blade to his skin, and there's a quick learning curve to how much pressure I need to apply. The first swipe is too gentle, but the second is enough. Eric stays perfectly still, head cocked and eyes on me, and he only moves when I rinse the blade off.

"Yes."

"What do they think?" I tilt his jaw up, liking that he's letting me do this, and ever surprised at the barest hint of willingness to let me get this close. "Tris seemed mad over it."

"She's always mad," Eric throws out, but his words slow when I reach his throat. He swallows once, and his fingers find my thighs. "I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks. You shouldn't either."

"Tris said she's marrying Jeremy," I inform him, and I press his cheek to turn his head to the side. "Do you think she will?"

"No," Eric's shrug is immediate. "He's only doing it to keep her away from Four. The stress is starting to get to her. She missed a shift in the control room the other day. Come to find out, Jeremy told her about Four possibly leaving and she lost her mind. I don't foresee any sort of wedding in their future."

"I would have liked to go to their wedding. Maybe not her and Jeremy, but if she ever got married," I answer quietly, and it's impossible to miss his eye roll. "What? You wouldn't have gone?"

"Never."

He falls silent, turning his head slightly, and he patiently waits for me to continue. The real act of trust is him assuming I won't slip up and slice his throat apart. He must be very confident in my ability to not kill him, because he steps closer so he's between my legs, and his bare chest is inches from me.

"What if she marries Four? Then he can stay here. Just like I get to stay here because you married me," I use my fingertips to turn his head further, but I catch his lips turning up before he can stop himself. "I think it's a good plan. You know it would work. From personal experience."

"Funny, Amity." He answers shortly, then takes the razor from my fingers to finish up the side much faster than I could have. "I'll be back in an hour. Two hours max. Try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone."

"Who is the meeting with?" I look up at him while he finishes shaving, and he steps away only to wash his face off. He pats his skin dry then resumes standing in front of me. "Is it Jeanine?"

"No. But it is someone from Erudite," Eric answers quickly, and he cocks his head when I frown. "It's not anyone you know. It's a woman claiming to have some intel on Jeanine. There's a chance it's a setup, but Max insisted we follow up on it."

"Oh, well…" I don't know what to say, because her name still makes me nervous. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Eric shakes his head. The dark gauges are extra dark in his ear lobes, or maybe the lighting is making him look more pale than normal. I study him wordlessly, until he reaches out to touch my hair. He twists it around his fingers for a second, and his smile is slow and unbothered.

"I'll be back soon. Go to bed. Don't worry about the meeting. I have a hundred more to attend in the next few weeks."

I listen.

Not because he expects me to follow every command he throws my way, which were few, but because I'm tired, and I have absolutely nothing to keep me occupied from worrying about his meeting. I fall asleep with my head on his pillow, and I don't wake up once, not even when he comes home far later than he promised.

Arlene calls at nine thirty in the morning.

I groan when my phone rings, and the list of people who would call me is awfully short. I was hoping it was someone else; maybe Forrest having borrowed Harrison's phone, or Willow, calling to tell me how she was feeling. Even Sophia or Courtney, feeling like they live far, far away, but having found a way to call.

It's none of them, only Arlene, squawking in my ear to ask if Eric told me she wanted to redo the test.

"What? No. I don't want you to have any more of my blood," I sit up, shoving my hair out of the way and glancing at Eric's side of the bed. He'd left early this morning, squished near the edge because I'd fallen asleep on his side, unconsciously seeking him out while I slept. "I don't need to come back down there."

Her sigh is heavy.

"Look, I know you don't want to have more bloodwork. But…. someone, who shall remain nameless for my own sanity, hacked into my system and changed all the names. There are two positive pregnancy tests and six negative ones. I have no idea which one is yours." Her pause is purposeful, but annoying. "Therefore, I need you to come redo the test."

"I'm fine," I answer without having any actual proof of this. "I'm not sick at all. Or pregnant."

"Everly," Arlene starts to say something, and in the background is a bunch of noise. It sounds like someone screaming, then someone laughing as a loud crash echoes. "RYLAN, I TOLD YOU NEVER TO COME BACK HERE."

"I have a headache!" He yells back, and I hear someone else begging him to just take the medicine and leave. "I need you to check it out."

"I'll check you out. Right out of this faction!" Arlene threatens him, and I crack up when he tells her where she can shove her generic painkiller, then politely asks for something stronger. "It's not children's medicine. It's what's recommended for a headache. Now go home!"

"NO! I got kicked in the head and now my head hurts!"

"Everly, I'll call you back," Arlene's exasperation is hard to miss. "Just…if you start to have any symptoms…nausea, vomiting, exhaustion…come down here sooner rather than later. But honestly, if you come down and redo the test, I'll have the results by the end of the day. You'd have a definite answer and you can start the birth control then."

"Oh, crap!" I sit up in bed, and I stare at the dark walls in pure horror when I realize the test she did have probably doesn't even count. "Um, well, I've had sex since that appointment. I don't think that test would be accurate anyway. You should ask Eric. Maybe I'll come by next week. If I have time."

"What!" Arlene crashes into something or someone, presumably Rylan, and I hear her hotly inform him to quit making online appointments because he's crashing their new system. "Wait, Everly hold on. Just come down here and –"

"Don't do it, Everly! She's a terrible woman! Terrible!"

Her phone disconnects abruptly.

Or she's thrown it at Rylan.

Either way, I hop off Eric's bed and I pause at the large mirror by his closet. I examine myself intently, noticing I look absolutely no different, especially in the nightgown. I look the same as I did last week; my hair is long and dark, and it matches the dark fabric. Pleased with this incredibly accurate scientific proof, I head into the bathroom to take a shower, with plans to go surprise Eric at work and inform him he can get the test results from Arlene because I am 100% fine.

My plans take a sharp turn when I find Four sitting by the chasm.

The sight of him alone isn't odd; I'd run into him plenty of times in Amity looking like he hated life, and today is no different. He sits watching the water with a bleak stare, and every so often, he inches closer to the edge.

Which makes my heart leap into my throat.

The edge he's sitting on isn't all that much, and from what I'd learned from Eric's romantic messages about the chasm, if you fell down it, you wouldn't survive.

"Hey!"

I walk over slowly, and I only greet him when I'm close enough that he won't startle. He looks up warily, and his tired expression doesn't lessen when I sit down beside him. It takes all of three seconds for my phone to beep, and I know Eric has someone keeping an eye on me.

"Hey, Everly."

Four isn't at all impressed when I manage to sit down without falling. It's hard in the skirt I have on. I finally pull my feet beneath me, staying farther back than him, but I realize there's a ledge beneath where he's sitting and his feet are balanced on it. It doesn't make me feel any better, especially not when he sighs.

"Did Eric send you over here? To push me in?"

"Not today," I answer cheerfully. "He's in his office."

Four side eyes my explanation while I peek down over the edge.

The chasm is pretty. I like the rushing waterfall, even though the spray is misting us as it roars past, and the drop is so steep it's hard to see the bottom. From what I can see in the darkness, rocky, jagged edges jut out, making the fall a painful one. The water violently crashes into the pool a few stories beneath us, giving way to an underground river.

The sight makes my head spin.

"Doesn't this freak you out?" I look up at Four, fully expecting him to say yes.

Instead, he shrugs. "No. I feel like it should. Part of me wants to get up and leave, but what's the point? What do I have to do? The only person who gives a shit is getting married and that very guy is pushing for me to be exiled. Apparently, I started some war. Here and elsewhere."

"Yeah, kind of," I answer truthfully, and he throws me a look of disdain. "You did! I don't know what you want me to say. I was a part of it. Your mother started a war on my home faction. I got attacked because I didn't want to join her army."

"Well…I'm sorry. I don't know why I would have done that," Four mutters. He kicks his shoe back and forth, and a tiny rock crumbles down into the darkness. "I don't want to go to Abnegation, but I have no choice if that's what they decide. I guess…that's what I deserve. Even if I don't remember it."

"I wasn't going to ask," I grin, and my phone buzzes again. I pull it out of my jacket to see Eric's name on the phone, and I answer before he can storm down here. "Hi."

"Are you trying to die?"

Eric's voice is dry. Behind it, there's some very valid concern, and behind all that, is Rylan still yelling how Arlene needs to be demoted for kicking him out of the infirmary for a year.

"Is Rylan okay?"

"Everly," Eric says my name in total exasperation, and the sound makes me smile because I can picture the look on his face. "Please, for the love of God, get away from the edge of the chasm. Take your friend Four and go eat breakfast. Take him outside. Take him to Harrison. I don't care what you do but GET AWAY FROM THE WATER. You're going to slip and fall to your death."

"It's really quiet here," I insist, but I do scoot back. Four looks up curiously, and I motion for him to follow me. "And how am I supposed to pay for breakfast?"

"Just…have them bill me. You can use your ID card, too. It's linked to mine." He still sounds stressed, and there's a grunt of annoyance when I don't move. "Any day now, Everly!"

"Are you watching me?" I look up at the ceilings, trying to see if I can see a camera or anything, but I don't.

"No, but Will is. Every three seconds, I'm being sent a picture of you nearing death."

"I'm not going to die," I reach for Four to pull him back, and he swats me away with an air of pure annoyance. "Okay, well Four and I will go eat. Then what? Are you coming home? Arlene keeps calling me. She said I have to do the test again because Rylan mixed up all the names."

His exhale is heavy. "I know. He's very sorry. He thought it would be funny and he swore he wrote down the ones he changed but he didn't. Which explains why Jason got a positive pregnancy test when he was there to see if he's anemic."

"Is he?" I watch Four stand up, wiping his hands on his pants, and he reluctantly follows me away from the edge. I pause at the two hallways before me, not really sure which one to take.

"Well, thanks to Rylan, no one knows," Eric answers humorlessly, and in the background, Rylan protests he's truly sorry. "Go to Clyde's. Tell Lucy to bill me."

"Okay," I agree, and I still don't know which way to go. "Hey, um, before I tell you goodbye, do I go left or…"

"It's to the left." Eric pauses, and there's a quick moment of silence. "I'll take you to Arlene tonight if you want. We should…you should decide what you want to do with that. Not me. If it's not too late. I didn't really try not to…"

"Not to what? What do you mean?" I go to the left as Eric trails off, and Four follows along silently. "You didn't try not to what?"

"I have to go," his answer is slightly miserable, and I nearly crash into the wall when Four loudly informs me to watch out. "I'll see you tonight."

"Wait!"

He hangs up before I can get an answer out of him. Beside me, Four shakes his head, and he throws me a sympathetic half smile. "This week is sucking for both of us, I see."

"What are you talking about?" I follow him as he goes right, and to my surprise, he picks the correct route. We both look shocked when the stairs take us in the right direction, and a low sign tells us Clyde's is around the turn. "My week isn't sucking."

"Sure. Your husband wants a baby and you don't. I heard all about it from Arlene. She was mostly muttering to herself, but I put it all together." Four informs me, and he catches my stare. "I don't…okay, I don't know all that for sure. She just said Eric wants something no one ever thought he'd want, and he wants it with you. I'm assuming it's a family since he has everything else."

"Do you remember him?" I stare up at Four, and his eyes flash with brand new amusement. "You do, don't you!"

"He's the only thing I remember. How lucky am I?" Four sighs, and he stops in front of the doors to Clyde's. "I can't tell if what I'm remembering is new or old memories. I saw him walking with some blonde girl last night and he looked pretty happy. But, today, I don't know if that was what I actually saw, or if it was from a night long ago. So…who knows? My assumption is Eric doesn't want you to leave, and his hopes hinge on you being trapped here forever. How romantic."

I glare at him, but I don't get the chance to ask him any more questions.

The doors to Clyde's swing wide open, and out comes Lauren, heading straight toward us.

"Why doesn't he remember?"

Lauren is a vicious sight. Her posture reminds me of Eric, perfectly straight and immediately defensive, and I wonder if I never bumped into Eric if he would have wound up with her. For a second, I imagine this theory while she stands in front of me, because she looks an awful lot like me. Her dark hair is down today, and her all black leggings and shirt mock my skirt and long-sleeved shirt.

We look at each other, and she has maybe an inch on me.

If that.

"He can't. It's not his choice," I answer so Four doesn't have to. He stands next to me with his eyes narrowed at Lauren, and I wonder if they got along before all this. "Why? Do you want him to remember you?"

Her eyes widen.

Lauren shakes her head furiously, and she steps back from both of us. "I heard a rumor he was back with Tris. I saw her looking like she'd been crying in the control room. I thought maybe he remembered what was going on or someone informed him of what happened."

"He doesn't, but you can ask him," I cross my arms over my chest, and Four cracks the barest hint of a smile. "Do you need something else?"

"Do I need something else? Actually, I do. I need answers about why you're here. How you're married to Eric. What did you do to him? Do you really think he's going to stay married to some…some girl from Amity?" Lauren looks livid now, having gotten past Four not remembering her and returning to her dislike of me. "You don't even have a job here. Do you just sit there and wait for him to come home?"

"No," I answer without thinking, but she has a point. "I'm going to start working in a few weeks. And for your information, he's very happy with our marriage."

"Doubtful," Lauren says smugly, and I resist the urge to punch her. "His last girlfriend was Jeanine's assistant. He doesn't often associate with literal nobodies. Once he realizes you don't have much to offer here, he'll be done with you. I heard him talking about it."

"Well, if I have to have a job, then maybe I'll take yours," I throw out, and I ignore Four's bark of laughter. Lauren throws him a nasty stare, but it doesn't do much. "Since you had such a hard time with both classes. At least, that's what I heard."

"I'd like to see you try. We all know you're only here because it makes him look good. You'll realize that when he–"

She doesn't get to finish her sentence.

Four punches her for me.

I stand there with wide eyes as he punches her square in the face, then rears back to stare at his work. Lauren's shriek is loud, but Dauntless is loud so it goes mostly unnoticed. She hops away with both hands on her face, and her cheek is bright red where his fist landed.

"Are you fucking serious? Why did you just punch me? What the hell!"

"You're being rude," Four shrugs, and he nudges me with his elbow. "There. Are we even now? You won't be mad at me anymore?"

"I'm not mad at you. You told me to leave you alone," I look up at him, nearly as tall as Eric but far less intimidating, and he looks hopeful. "If I ask you to, will you punch her again?"

"Sure."

"Fuck you both. Seriously." Lauren glares but she makes no move to come near us. "I'm bringing this to…to…"

"To who? Everly's husband? I'm sure Eric will be on your side when he hears how you said he's going to dump her." Four shoves past her, and he gestures for me to follow. "Come on. I have a card here. Maybe…that one girl with the shitty attitude is working."

"This isn't over," Lauren hisses, and she waits for me to argue with her.

I don't.

I follow Four inside, walking quickly to keep up.

"Do you remember her?" I catch his arm when he pauses to survey the bar, and he picks a booth way in the back. "Four?"

"I don't have to remember anything to know I don't like her," he answers flatly, and he glances down at me. "Do you like Lauren? Should I not have punched her?"

For a second, I think this over.

In reality, he didn't need to punch her. Lauren wasn't anyone I was worried about, and while her words were insulting, I didn't really care. Eric had made it pretty clear he didn't want me to leave. If I had to guess, I would say he was hoping we'd have a family as soon as possible. My goal in Dauntless wasn't to deal with a newborn all day, or be stuck at home with a baby while he went out with his friends, but I had the sudden suspicion he was desperate for the family he never had. I think he wanted permanence, past me being his wife, and past us just living here.

I was finding it impossible to say no to the only person who'd ever cared about me.

Not to mention the fact that I was tired, something which crept up out of nowhere and settled right into my bones. Perhaps I should see Arlene, or even have Eric go with me.

I forget all about that as Four clears his throat, patiently waiting for my answer.

Him punching Lauren was a peace offering, one he might get in trouble for, but he doesn't seem to care. Maybe once you have nothing, there's nothing left to fear.

"No, you definitely should have punched her. Thank you."

He smiles slightly, less hopeful and more real, and the two of us sit down in Harrison's bar so we can watch Lauren finally leave, loudly yelling how she's going to file a complaint.

The news makes its way to Eric quickly.

I imagine he heard it while in some meeting. I hadn't been in any of the conference rooms, but I could conjure up the image of him sitting there, his uniform jacket buttoned all the way up and a sneer on his face. I could also imagine the very moment he got Lauren's official complaint, maybe slid across the table by Linda, or even Jason.

It had probably made him smile, just like now.

"You aren't mad?"

My eyes are closed, and his chest is warm. The TV screen is on, casting a cool glow over the living room while Eric watches a show about unsolved mysteries. His fingers are in my hair, lazily twirling a piece around and around, and he only stops to shift me closer.

"At what? Four punching Lauren? I think it might be the first thing he's done that I approve of." Eric's words are low and heavy, and I hear him snicker when tells me Lauren's complaint was a mile long. "I had to explain you don't report to Lauren, so there's no logic in her complaint of insubordination or as a threat to her job security."

"I said I'd take her job," I confess, my fingers digging into the soft fabric of his shirt, and his exhale is content. "But she said you'd leave me and…"

I don't finish what I'm saying.

I'm sure Eric knows. I'm sure Lauren's report included everything, including my audacious claim on her job. I had absolutely zero training for it, nor did I even know if I'd make it through an initiation here, but I like that it bothered her enough to be included.

I like it even better when Eric laughs, and his fingers slide up to my temples to press carefully.

"You can have her job, Amity. You can have whatever you want."

I don't even get to answer him.

I fall asleep before the mystery is ever solved, tired and warm and happy that Eric didn't care Four punched Lauren, and that his claim, wild and completely insane, is all the more proof that I'm not leaving any time soon.

I sit upright in pure panic.

The nightmare hovers behind my eyes, refusing to fade, and it pulls at my skin. I wipe at my cheeks furiously, smearing the hot wet proof of my own terror, and I can only compare it to what a fear landscape must feel like.

I'd fallen asleep on Eric's chest, and woke up in his bed. In between all this, was the never-ending nightmare from nowhere. I'd drifted off listening to Eric talk about Lauren, and whatever show he had been watching worked its way into my dream. It started off normal enough, me walking through Amity, staring up at the thick trees and twined branches, and it took a sharp turn once Colton appeared.

I'd nearly forgotten about him, and how he currently resided somewhere in Dauntless. Like a creature that lurked in the night, he was waiting, hiding until we would meet again. In my dream, I stared him down, unwilling to back away and knowing I had to prove myself. The worst of it was I knew I'd lose; Colton outweighed me by enough to pin me down, and he was feral with each step he took. The dream grew worse when I tried to punch him, and he momentarily turned into Lauren. Her features were muddy as she blurred into, then away from him, and her words echoed in my head over and over.

I wrenched myself away from her, only to find a row of people lined up, like ghosts just awaiting their chance to get to me. Landon was there, his head bloody and an eye missing. Evelyn, a matching bloody mess with a bleeding heart and a ghoulish glow. Lauren and Colton, blurring as my brain tried to get rid of them. Blythe, in a formal blue dress, sneering as she pointed me out to Jeanine.

Everything worsened when Daniel walked behind them, looking lost and unhappy, and my father and Harrison joined him. Their group was completed when Eric showed up, and it hit me that they were all here to watch me die.

Violent and lovely, the nightmare waned and intensified with each second. My brain fought it; at some point, it realized I was dreaming and it struggled to wake me up. Eric's face turned unrecognizable, and when he looked at me, he called me Ashley.

"Fuck." I throw the covers off me, feeling suddenly hot and sick and I swear he says her name in his sleep. It's unlikely. He'd only ever spoken poorly of her, and insisted I was the only one who'd ever spent the night.

None of this is comforting as I rush into his bathroom, desperate for cool air and some water.

It makes it all worse.

The bright light makes me wince, and the cold tile sends a wave of pure, unending intense nausea through me. I glance around in a panic, fairly certain I'm about to die.

I don't.

Not entirely.

Just a little, when Eric calls out my name in sleepy confusion, right as I throw up in his pristine bathroom.

"What's the last name?"

The nurse blinks at me. She's unrecognizable except for dark scrubs and a name badge with the Dauntless logo. She's already given me a few things to take: something for the nausea, something for the headache, and a glass of water.

I took all of them willingly, even going as far to surrender my arm to being stabbed again.

"Coulter."

Eric grits out the answer between clenched teeth. His shirt is warm against my cheek, and his arms are around me, daring the nurse to try and come any closer.

"Everly…Coulter?" The nurse looks over at him in pure confusion, and I'm shocked he doesn't leap off the table and kill her right then and there. "Is she your…your…"

The poor nurse struggles to come up with an acceptable family member for me to be. Spouse is clearly not on her list, and I can see her hovering somewhere between sister and long-lost cousin.

"I'm his wife," I answer lowly, feeling better. The horrible feeling from earlier is gone, and I chalk it up to stress. I'd been struggling with my place in Eric's life, in Dauntless, and trying to make friends. I was happy Four seemed to accept what was going on, but I was worried Jeremy would have him killed. I hadn't heard from Christina in a few days and combined with the dinner with Blythe and Eric's secret meeting, a little nausea wasn't unexpected.

"You're married?" She looks at Eric only, ignoring my scowl from the safety of his chest. "I thought you were –"

"Is this relevant? My wife is sick. Get me Arlene and get the fuck out of here," Eric snarls, and my third visit to the infirmary proves to go just as poorly as the others. Though this time, it's less me and more over Eric's marital status. "Do you need me to repeat myself?"

"No, I just…when did you get married?" The nurse is stupidly brave. She closes my chart with a hint of despair, and her eyes widen. "Sorry, Arlene is off but…I'll get…I'll get…uh –"

"I'm here. I got called in." Arlene bursts through the door as if on cue, and her eyes are wild with lack of sleep. "What happened to Everly? Is she okay? Did she fall off the bed?"

"She threw up," Eric answers loudly. "I want you to fix that."

"Fix what?" Arlene grabs the chart from the nurse and shoos her away. The first nurse throws Arlene a desperate look as she pleads to stay, but Arlene ignores her in favor of reading the scarce notes written by my questionable name. "What am I fixing?"

"That she doesn't feel good," Eric retorts, and his arms tighten inward on me. "Isn't that your job here?"

Arlene stares at both of us, and I feel a speck of guilt. Eric's rudeness only masks his panic. Once he knew I'd gotten sick, he'd stared at me like I'd announced I would be dead within minutes. He threw his shirt and a pair of his boxers at me, and he'd brought me to the last place I wanted to go after revisiting my dinner.

Luckily, there was no wait.

Eric and I were escorted right back, and the triage nurse had my vitals before I could blink. The nurse who had been struggling with my name was kicked out, and now Arlene was gifted with the task of making sure I wasn't sick.

Which, even I knew, was impossible.

There was a chance it was something Eric wasn't thinking about; I could have the flu, I could have food poisoning, I could have some weird, crazy virus no one had ever heard of.

Or, this could be the result of sleeping with Eric without a care in the world.

"Yes, my job here is solely to wait on you and your wife. Everly, are you alright? Are you feverish? Dizzy? Are you seeing spots?"

"None of that is helpful," Eric barks, and I focus on the maze-like pattern on his arm. I trace it with one finger, wondering if the particular shape meant anything. "Just…make it so she's not sick."

"I'm trying!" Arlene barks back, and she looks at him like he's insane. "You know what? Maybe you should wait in the lobby. There are a million reasons someone might get sick, but I have to start somewhere and you have to let go of her."

Eric is silent, and my fingers graze over his skin to his wrist. He pulls me closer to him, unwilling to let her near me.

"Do us all a favor and let go of Everly so I can take her temperature. Let me run a few tests. I promise you, I can make her feel better, but only if I know what's wrong." Arlene stares at both of us, me, feeling less queasy as I lean against him, and him dressed in whatever he'd thrown on. I wonder if she'd ever seen him like this, half dressed in boxers and a shirt, or if he only came down here looking invincible.

"Did you really ban Rylan?" I look up at Arlene as she steps closer, and there is no hesitation to her. She reaches for my arm, pressing a few spots, and I know what's coming. "What if he gets hurt?"

"Then he can come back. I banned him from acting like a moron. Max gave him some new assignments so hopefully he'll find that more interesting than changing all my charts." Arlene pauses where she'd stuck the needle in my arm last time, and we all jump when Eric's phone rings.

Everyone is quiet.

It rings again, insistently.

"Aren't you going to get it?"

"It's three am," Eric snaps, and but he relents. He manages to keep his arms around me to grab the phone, and whoever is on the other ends get one hell of a dark what.

Their answer does not please him.

"Shit. I'll be…actually, get Jason and Rylan down there first. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Their protest falls on deaf ears as Eric struggles to come up with a reason why he can't be there asap. They keep saying something, the tiny voice insistent, and finally Eric sighs.

"I'm with Everly in the infirmary. I'll be there as soon as we're done."

His words end the call, but not Arlene's exam.

"I'm going to redo your bloodwork. Do you want Eric to stay, or do you want him to go? Whatever is easier for you," she scribbles down a few orders, and moves to the door to call out for someone to come help her. "Everly?"

"I'm fine. You can go," I crane my head up to look at Eric, and his glare tells me he doesn't want to leave.

He'd watched me brush my teeth like he was afraid I'd vanish. Our walk down here had been pretty quiet, and very quick. It seemed he knew a faster route, and I wasn't sure if he was afraid I'd get sick again, or he just wanted to know what was wrong.

"I'm alright, I promise." My fingers still on his arm, still wrapped around me, still refusing to let go. "I'll call you as soon as I'm done. Was the call important?"

"Security breach," he mutters, and his gaze drops to my hand on him. "The concern is the person threw out Evelyn's name over and over, and there's a chance something is starting up. Are you sure you'll be alright?"

His concern, and extreme reluctance to leave, is heartwarming. I couldn't imagine Landon sitting in an infirmary with me or being this patient. He'd insist it was all in my head, and probably chastise me for wasting his time when he had to work. It's a weird shock when I remember he's not even alive anymore, but it doesn't matter. Even my own mother would have given me some tea and told me to go back to bed.

"I think so. I feel way better now. It might be something I ate," I smile up at his stormy sneer, and he still doesn't let go. "Go find what the ghost of Evelyn is doing. She's the reason I got sick anyway. I was dreaming of her."

He throws me a weird look, but his grip lessens slightly. "I'll be back in twenty. Don't try to walk home without me if you feel sick. Have Arlene call me."

"Promise." I lean back when he presses his lips to my hair, and he slides away from me. I dislike the cold feeling that follows, but I know he has no choice.

He'll either wait here until Arlene is done and spend more time on the security breach or go there now and hopefully be done at the same time.

He must agree.

Eric throws me one last look before he heads out through the doors, and I sigh in surrender as another nurse shows up with the same set of needles and vials as the last time I was down here. I give up my arm without asking, and half an hour later, I slip out of the room and right into Rylan.

"I thought you got banned."

I whisper while he and I walk, and he grins as he takes me along a route I don't know. We seem to be going the opposite way I came in here, and he ignores my suggestion to go back the other way. Arlene had given me paperwork, a return appointment, and something to take if I felt sick again. She informed me she'd call me in a few hours, and insisted I go home and go back to sleep.

I was going to, but I ran into Rylan first, and he cheerfully informed me Eric had sent him to come walk me home.

"I did get banned. But she can't keep me out of here forever. It's against the law," Rylan loudly declares, and he waves at a few nurses yawning as we walk past them. "I didn't mean to mess up all her files. I just wanted Jason's report to come back as a positive pregnancy test. I thought it would be hilarious."

"Where is he?" I yawn as we turn the corner, and my eyes widen as we head straight through a room full of patients waiting to be seen. Rylan nods hello at the ones who greet him, and he walks even faster as we exit out a door marked Staff. "Eric said something about a security breach."

"He's with Eric. Some lunatic was caught ranting about the work of Evelyn and how it can't be undone. He said you by name and Eric, so they thought it was best to call him in. But don't worry. Eric has minimal patience right now. I wouldn't expect him to be there much longer. He basically had the guy hauled in for crashing into our gate and then held on grounds for interrogation and threatening you." Rylan and I walk through the doorway into a different side of the hallway, and he winks. "Staff entrance and exit. Molly showed me once. She told me never to use it, but what's the fun in going out the regular door."

"You're right," I catch his smile, and he looks down to make sure I'm following him. "Regular doors are pretty boring."

"I knew you were smart. Eric said you were short, but he forgot to mention smart," Rylan snickers, and true to his word, he heads in the direction of Eric's apartment. "How are you feeling? Good? Someone said you barfed and Eric got all riled up. I can't remember if he has a phobia of vomit or just can't stand the thought of you being sick."

"I did throw up, but it could be from anything. I think maybe it was something I ate," I follow him closely, pausing while he pushes the call button for the elevator. "He was really worked up in the exam room."

"This might come as a shock to you, but Eric loathes being down there. I think he's traumatized from his father working in a hospital and his mother acting like she owned the place. Also, because he's clingy and he's worried something is wrong."

The elevator doors ding, loud in the quiet hallway, and Rylan waits for me to go in first.

"I'm not that sick," I frown at him, but he's unconvinced. "What? You think I'm sick?"

"I think I'm finally going to get to be a godfather. It's the only thing in my life I haven't accomplished," Rylan announces, and he jabs the button for the sixth floor. Then the fifth. Also the second through ninth. "Eric is my best friend which means I'm automatically in the baby's life forever. Even if you have a best friend back in Amity. Or here. Someone said you knew Jake. That's fine, but he can't have my job."

"I do know Jake, but what are you talking about?" I stare up at Rylan, his brown hair pulled up and off his face. His uniform jacket is opened to reveal a bright green shirt, and it clashes with the blue stripe on his jacket sleeve. "You think he would be the godfather of…"

"Your baby!" Rylan's eyes light up, hopeful as ever. "Even if it's not right now, I'd still like to claim the job. I can keep your baby safe. Jake cannot. He proved this last week, when he accidentally freed a squirrel from a trap."

"I see," I try not to laugh at this, because Rylan is dead serious with his quest to be Eric's child's godparent. "I don't think Jake would mind. He's very nice and –"

"Motherfucker!" Rylan swears at his phone, but answers on the second ring. "Hold on. I have to take this. I got in trouble for not answering my phone last week and -Hey, I'm with Everly. We're almost to your apartment. Did they get everything processed? No. Oh good. Great. I'd love to do paperwork all night. I've only been up since three am two days ago."

His sigh is loud in the elevator.

"I'll make sure she gets home. I already promised. See you in ten."

He ends the call with a groan, then turns to face me.

"Eric says hello and he misses you dearly. Not in those exact words, but I summarized for him."

"Is he stuck with whoever showed up?" I smile at Rylan's enthusiasm, and the doors chime as we reach the second floor. He immediately pushes the close button, and the elevator takes off toward the third floor.

His answer is still cheerful, but knowing.

"Of course, he is."

Days later, I watch the initiates receive their ranks with the rest of the faction.

I thought I'd missed this part, but Eric explained that once the fear landscapes were done, Lauren was the only one left to finalize all the scores. The initiation routinely would have ended that very day, but with Four losing his memory, the other leaders all busy, and Lauren working around the clock to get caught up, it was pushed back a few days to make sure there were no errors.

It also explained Lauren's rage at me. She'd been working nonstop to finish, and now, her efforts were dulled by Eric and Max standing to the side, watching the former initiation class mill around. Once the rankings are announced, their evening will take a drastic turn for the more exciting. Rylan already announced a few parties were starting, but the final one would culminate on the roof, where he was most excited to go.

"We're incredibly behind this year. Amity did their final initiation the day after Harrison got there," Max lowly informs Eric, but I hear him, too. "He said it went well. Not a single person failed."

"They aren't failing here, either," Eric reminds him.

His arms are behind his back, and if I didn't know him, he'd look very intimidating. Because I do know him, I recognize the brand new haircut, buzzed impossibly shorter and gelled into place, and the uniform Carol dropped off. I watched him lace up his boots while he sat on the edge of the bed, and I watched him smirk at me when I walked closer, asking him if we'd be late.

We weren't.

We arrived right on time. The leaders were standing in all sorts of vantage spots, and Eric was immediately whisked away by Max to listen to a discussion on what they were doing with all the initiates. Turns out, most were staying. Rather than creating their own enemies, like Eric once pointed out, they would be using almost everyone. A few of the lowest ranking ones would be kicked out, but not made factionless.

They were being sent to live and work in Amity.

"How are you doing Everly? Did you enjoy watching the fear landscapes? This must all be very different from the initiation you were in," Max focuses on me, but his stare is pretty pleased. He'd been happy when I walked in with Eric, and he stayed that way, even now, as we move to the side so a new wave of members could head further in. "Eric mentioned you were adjusting well, which is a good thing."

My smile is immediate, and so is the curiosity over Max's approval on all this. I knew little about him, had only met him a handful of times, but I'd discovered he whole heartedly seemed to approve of my marriage to Eric. In fact, he seemed to really like it, to the degree where he'd willing let Eric bring me in on the orders of a fake arrest, and marry me a day later.

"I really like Dauntless. It is different, but it's far better than Amity."

Max and Eric exchange a look. I'd feel left out, but their stares mirror each other's relief.

"Good. Harrison said you'd be a natural here." Max nods a hello to Karl and his friends as they excitedly wait for the big reveal. "He seems content in Amity."

"He should be. He loves Amity," Eric says lowly, and he glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I force a smile back because we both know Harrison is a sore subject for me.

I might not have thrown up again, but I'd spent the past day feeling sort of down. Eric finally realized I was fine, just bummed my real father was in the faction I'd left, and there was nothing he could do to fix this. Harrison's assignment had been made permanent; he was to stay there until further notice, and once he finished up his final paperwork with Dauntless, he'd return to Amity to oversee it full time.

Turns out, he was a big hit.

He handled everything far easier than Johanna did, and he'd made vast changes in a short amount of time. Every camera now worked. There were none lagging or blinking on and off, and for once, Dauntless had a clear idea of all things Amity. My mother had a larger medical center, with slightly more advanced medicine and a new assistant. I'd overheard them saying she protested at first, but gave in when Harrison promised her she could help more people this way. Harrison had also changed a few of the delivery schedules, gave away a few cows which were nearing retirement, and he replaced Carole's chickens with more chickens. May got some extra ducks, my father got the surprise of his life when Harrison insisted he let some lady named Kerrie stay with him, and from what I gathered, things were going really well.

They were going well in Dauntless, too.

It was just a different kind of well.

"Maybe we can go visit him," I suggest, but it's drowned out by the cries as Lauren shows up, looking tired and irritable. Her eye is dark where Four punched her, and the makeup she's smeared on top does little to cover it.

She glowers as she walks, and once the room falls silent, she wordlessly pushes a button to light up the board. The names reveal themselves one by one, and I watch in pure fascination at the rankings. There's something brutal about how they're scored, and even more so by how they're up against their peers. My thoughts on forming an army were a little different; I would think they'd have to work together and pitting them against one another had to create some violent conflicts.

I can see it has.

Jake is ranked second.

The look on his face is a flash of utter disbelief. Weeks of hard work has paid off to rank him second, but it must sting that he's not first. His disappointment is fleeting at best. His expression soon turns joyous, and he beams when someone congratulates him.

Karl slaps him on the shoulder, and the two of them point to his name in the first spot. Karl's friends, CJ and Kevin, stick to the side, and both hold a sour expression as they're ranked fifth and sixth. The rest of the names are a blur to me, but it's easy to figure out who's who. A girl named Lee seethes in a fit of rage as she ranks nineteenth, but a girl named Dizzy crows when she's ranked third. Karl and Jake congratulate her immediately, and they both miss two red headed girls trying to get their attention.

Ultimately, most are happy they're staying. The lowest ranking ones are smaller and less agile, and most appear relieved when it's revealed they'll be heading to Amity. One of the girls weeps with joy at learning she's not factionless, and the guy beside her takes her by the hand and pulls her into the crowd. I watch them until I can't see them, and they're gone before I realize someone has started passing out drinks, and someone else has started the music.

"You guys coming?" Jason yells, and he runs past Eric and me with his arms full of bottles. They clink as he runs, and he laughs when people begin yanking them away from him.

The feeling of joy is absolutely contagious.

It rises up, spreading quickly through the members. It bounces off the walls, skims over the floors, and vibrates so loudly I can feel it beneath my feet. The crowd grows louder when Lauren walks away, flipping most of them off and yelling for them to save their questions about their scores for another day. It grows even louder when Four wanders out, and his eyes take in the sight before him.

He's not entirely unimpressed. He seems to share my sense of awe at how this works, but there's something else behind his stare that wasn't there the other day.

I tilt my head at him, noticing his hair is a wreck. His shirt is crooked, like he'd pulled it on a second ago, and his boots are untied. He surveys the group before him with mild interest, and he smiles at a few who call out his name. His smile grows wider when Tris finds him, and they talk for a few seconds. She still doesn't look great; her skin is pale and sallow, and her eyes are tired, but they both look reasonably better than the last time I saw them.

Her shirt is crooked, too, and her hair might be even worse than his.

Still, they both look far happier as they choose to leave together. Four's stare catches mine, and he winks as he takes off after Tris. It's a terrible wink, but it's the least of my concerns.

I watch as he reaches out to take Tris by the hand, and so does Jeremy.

Pure joy is a lot of things.

It's the feeling the initiates, now members, have as they drunkenly stumble past me to go find their apartments. It's the sweet drink Rylan brought me, winking and telling me it's safe and nonalcoholic, along with the crackers Jason rummaged. It's the hug of Christina, crushing me with a shrieking yelp followed by a string of swears that she's been working so freaking much and she's so sorry but Rylan told her I got sick and has my hair always been that long and where did I get my dress but can we go to lunch tomorrow. It's Meghan, shyly inching closer, not at all drunk, and softly asking me if she and I could have dinner sometime. Just us, not Jason or Eric.

It's the weird way that I do fit in here, even without a job or an actual conclusion to Arlene's test, but mostly, it's Eric.

When the music is the loudest, and Meghan does finally have a drink, and Christina lets it slip that Tris went home from work early because she didn't feel good, Eric wraps his arms around me. He slides them around my waist, pulling me back toward him. He's warm even with the heavy uniform jacket off, and solid as I lean against him.

His fingers move quickly. They skim my arm until they find the tender spot where Arlene took more blood, and the stark bruise that has yet to fade. They press above and below, then down to my forearm, my wrist, then my hips.

He pulls me back silently, resting the bottom of his jaw on the top of my head, and ignoring Jason's joke about my being short coming in handy. He coaxes me further, until my shoes hit his boots, and he's certain I'm not going to fall.

There is joy in all of this.

Rylan, balancing a dark amber bottle on his head as someone tries to shoot it off. Arlene, lurking in the shadows with a look of dismay as someone yells not to use a real bullet, but maybe something else. Linda, making a rare appearance to congratulate her nephew on passing initiation, and there is zero shame from him when she hugs him, fiercely, and whispers she'll put in a good word with Max.

There is more joy when Eric's fingers move from my hip to my abdomen. He splays them wider for just a moment, so fleeting I would miss it if I weren't paying attention before he yanks me back further to press his mouth to my cheek.

His kiss is sloppy; he smells good, like cold air and whatever warm bourbon he's been drinking, and there's even more warmth to this rare display of very public affection. It's impossible to miss, and he knows it.

He says my name quietly, pressing it against my skin, and then he stays there with a low hum of pure content.

The joy lasts for a few days.

I finally summon up the courage to tell Eric I want to find a job here, and I figure he might have an idea. I think about it on my entire walk to the infirmary, down to the very words I'm going to say. It wasn't that he'd rebuke the idea, but maybe that he'd worry it wasn't safe.

Since the guy showed up at the gates, Eric's worry ramped itself up ten times over. He did his best to downplay it, but I was constantly surrounded by someone. Jason, Rylan, Eric himself, more often than not Christina. I liked all of them, so it didn't bother me, but I wasn't stupid.

Jason stood in a store while I picked out a shirt for Eric for a good hour, and Rylan spent forty-eight minutes, counted out loud, one by one, sitting on Eric's bathtub while I dried my hair.

I figured maybe I could work with one of them, or at the very least, they'd know something relatively safe and boring for me to start with. I practice telling Eric how I should contribute, or at the very least, maybe I could help Four if he ever got his memory back. I liked this idea the best, but Eric might like it the worst.

The thought makes me smile, which is needed considering Arlene called me twelves times to make sure I was coming down here. She said she needed to see me in person, and this couldn't be done over the phone.

I assumed it was the test results from the bloodwork. I told her fine, and I went down at the time she told me. My check-in is quicker than quick, and Molly waves me back to the same place Rylan tried to show me. I ask her to clarify twice, and when I still don't have a clue as to where Arlene's office is, I nod anyway and assure Molly I can find it.

I follow the maze of hallways the way I think they should go. Left, left, right, left, right again, straight down a dark hallway with crazy looking rooms, and a sharp right into the annex of the infirmary. I stop when I reach a section marked Employees only, security clearance needed, and I glance around.

Unfortunately, nothing is familiar.

This area is dark, set much farther back than I'd imagined, and creepy. I turn around to head back toward the main part of the clinic, but I can't remember which way I came from. I take a wild guess to go right, and I crash right into someone walking in the opposite direction.

I look up in total surprise, and I'm met with one wide eyed, concerned stare.

"I'm sorry! I didn't see you! Everly, are you alright?"

I nod, unable to say a single word, not even hello.


	26. Everything Ends Eventually

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Bamberlee for editing!

In the end, my entire life fell apart with one more final encounter.

I stood in the hallway of the Dauntless infirmary, staring up at the grin on Jeremy's face. It should have been my first clue that something, no everything, was wrong. He walked toward me slowly, perfectly even teeth and an eerie calm behind his eyes, and his hunt was all I could see. Mayhem, blossoming with each step. Excitement, at the sight of me, alone. Determination, as his hand reached out, and he grinned even wider when I stepped back from him.

"What's wrong, Everly? Are you…afraid? I'm not going to hurt you."

He was.

He knew it.

He thrived on my fear, real and insistent, and I had no time to run. Every time I'd ever seen him, he'd always looked like he was hiding something. I could never quite place my finger on it because I didn't know enough. I didn't know he'd spent his days trying to prove he was capable and fearless and as violent as they wanted him to be. I didn't know half of what went on behind closed doors, or why Eric went to meeting after meeting, or why he needed to keep a close eye on everyone. I didn't know the struggles they didn't make public, or the anger that spilled over the stress of things.

I had no clue the divide ran deep. Eric on one side, his friends determined to support him and themselves, and the others, questioning how long they could keep up the façade. Dauntless was a faction desperate to protect everyone, but they were really scrambling to protect themselves. Their alliances had made them vulnerable, especially to Jeanine, especially now.

I saw it then, the inevitable collapse of everything I believed, as Jeremy grabbed my arm with a heavy hand. His loyalty was not to Dauntless. It wasn't to Eric, or Max, nor was it to the few friends he'd made or the fiancée he was insistent upon marrying.

It lay with Erudite.

Like Eric, he'd been encouraged and chosen to fulfill a path demanded by someone else. When Jeanine couldn't get to Eric, she didn't let it deter her. She went to someone close to Eric, or as close as she could get. She'd poisoned Jeremy from the inside out, another puppet for another villain unwilling to do her own dirty work.

"Eric wanted me to come find you. I'm supposed to take you to Erudite. There's something you need to see." Jeremy smiled, and his grip hurt.

I didn't believe a word out of his mouth.

I tried to wriggle away, but with minimal training and the odds stacked against me, I was stuck. I called out for Arlene, or anyone who might have been wandering by, and Jeremy shook his head and told me to stop. He pulled me close, and his eyes were so dark he appeared otherworldly.

Landon had looked the same way the last time he tried to get to me. Like the violence in him was so all consuming that it opened up space for whatever demon wanted him. Landon's demons had been his own arrogance, but Jeremy's were pure and utter greed. He had me, trapped in the deepest part of Dauntless, late for an appointment that I wasn't so sure even existed, defenseless. Coming from Amity hadn't made me weak, but it hadn't made me strong enough to think I could take Jeremy by myself.

"Where is he?"

"He's in Erudite. They took care of everything and he just…Tori is there, too. They're waiting for you. Eric said he'd come back himself, but he's stuck in the meeting and he can't be interrupted."

I still didn't believe him. My intuition wasn't wrong in telling me to try and get away, but I had no way of saving myself. The frustration was heavy and so was the fear.

"Okay."

In the end, I should have run.

I should have run from all of them.

Arlene, with her sharp needles and paperwork, and her steely stare that held nothing past making sure I was fine for Eric's sake. Jason and Rylan, liking the idea of chaos enough to support Eric bringing me here, but never quite informing me that Dauntless might have been the most dangerous place of all. Lauren, livid at the sight of me, for very good reasons, and Tris, her dislike of me ringing true, perhaps the only one here who'd been openly honest.

No one had been honest.

I wasn't any safer here than I was in Amity. In fact, I was less safe, hidden in plain sight, set out for slaughter.

Even Harrison had gone, leaving me in the hands of men and women who needed a distraction while everything went on behind the scenes. He was, once again, faced with a choice he didn't want to make: stay for a daughter who wouldn't be here long, or go to Amity for the only woman he'd ever loved.

I felt foolish. Naïve for thinking Eric would ever love me, that Harrison wanted to know me, and stupid for believing I belonged here.

I wasn't sure where all of this came from, or why it hurt so much that I could barely take a deep breath.

It was then I knew the end was near, and I had no choice but to face it.

The ride to Erudite was quiet.

It was silent on my part. I sat in an oversized truck, with paperwork in my lap, and my hands shaking. Every so often, I looked out the window to try and see where we were. None of it made much sense, but some parts seemed familiar. I knew the trees looked like the ones by Amity, but they also looked like the ones by Erudite. I couldn't tell which route he was taking or why, and I couldn't figure out which direction we were going.

Eric had been right in picking someone who didn't know anything about how Dauntless worked. My eyes slipped over the blinking lights, and I listened to the low crackle over the speakers as someone called in a command. It was irrelevant to me; sixteen men were being dispatched to somewhere in Abnegation. A possible riot, or a possible nothing. I listened to their confirmation, to the response from Jake, mere days into life in Dauntless, confirming they were en route.

I swallowed thickly when Jeremy turned the truck to the left, and Erudite came into view. The glass buildings offered a lot of promise; the higher ones –like the hospital where Daniel worked –gleamed in the sunlight. The shops looked busy. The streets had members in blue walking up and down, or sitting outside cafés enjoying exquisite coffee and ornate salads. Only a few looked up as Jeremy drove past, and not a single one looked concerned.

I was concerned.

I'd toyed with my phone when I got in the truck, thinking I should call someone. I didn't have anything to lose. I hesitated to call Eric. I didn't want him annoyed if he were in an important meeting like Jeremy had said. I took the chance when Jeremy walked around the truck and I called Harrison. I kept the phone low, watching Jeremy pause to talk to one of the guards. He glanced back at me once, and I smiled.

Harrison didn't answer. The phone rang and rang, and I knew I didn't have a chance in hell at him picking up or figuring out what was going on. It went to a voicemail, and I quietly told him I thought I was in trouble. I whispered I was in Erudite, and I was fairly certain I didn't have very long, and that even though we hadn't had much time together, I loved him.

My guess was he'd never listen to it, but I didn't care.

I did it for my own selfish reasons, wanting someone to know I was trying, and someone to hear my last few words on this Earth.

It was all that kept me together as Jeremy parked wordlessly in front of a building I didn't recognize, and loudly instructed me to wait for him to get out. If he thought I was going to flee, he was right. I could have easily turned and sprinted toward any of the stores, or even the coffee shop Eric had taken me to. I could have hidden until I could call Eric, or maybe Jason. Rylan. Begged them to let me go, or maybe thrown the phone and ran, chancing my own survival on how fast I could find my way back.

All this felt paranoid.

Insane.

I grew dizzy when Jeremy yanked the door open, and even dizzier when I slipped, blinded by the sun bouncing off the building. I followed him quietly. He told me not to say anything as he flashed a badge at the security guards standing by the doors, and we were waved in without a single blink. He walked me to an elevator, and he pushed the number four before he looked at me.

"Did Arlene give you your test results yet?"

"No," I shook my head, holding on to the papers tighter. I'd tried to glance at them, silently cursing myself for not paying more attention when Molly had given them to me. My name was at the top, and a list of tests performed was printed below. "I was looking for her when I ran into you."

"They said it was urgent to bring you here. My guess is you need to see a specialist." Jeremy stares, and I stare back.

He was lying.

Erudite was full of specialists, but I didn't need to see any of them.

"You know those aren't what you're thinking they are, right?" Jeremy cocks an eyebrow, and when the door opens, he pushes me inside the elevator. "Arlene did routine bloodwork, yes. But the Erudite labs tested it for other things. They sent Arlene two sets of paperwork. One, with test results you haven't gotten yet. And those, with the tests Jeanine asked for."

"What tests?"

I never got my answer. The doors shut, the elevator rose up fast enough to make my stomach drop, and they opened before I could demand Jeremy tell me what was going on. My guess was something with the percentage had shown up. On the off chance Jeremy wasn't lying, I could have been brought to Erudite to show there was nothing wrong with the tests results. Or maybe Eric was having me come meet him to show them everything was fine.

Things had been changing, so maybe this was the start of something good.

My optimism died when Jeremy swiped his badge at the scanner on the wall, and the doors opened to reveal Jeanine standing there, waiting patiently, all alone.

The chair was cold.

I sat in silence while Jeanine flipped through the paperwork, and my mind raced with a plan on how to get away. It was obvious I could rely on only myself. Each step had taken me further and further away from my chance at survival, but I wasn't giving up. If I could get out of here, and I was hopeful I could, I would find a way back to Amity. I would find Harrison. I would make him tell me what was going on, and hope he wasn't a part of this.

I nearly threw up at the idea of him being given control over Amity because Dauntless thought it was a way to control two factions. Dauntless overseeing another faction had sounded good. Really good. Since Johanna had failed to keep us safe, it made sense to let someone else take over. Harrison was perfect. Good. Honest.

Or maybe not.

Maybe he wasn't any of those things, and that's why he'd left my mother in Amity the first time.

"These are accurate? The percentage is incredibly low." Jeanine spoke evenly, and her interest in me was minimal at best. Every so often, she glanced my way. Her frown was permanent, and entirely unforgiving. "This is the best you've got?"

"For now. I wanted to show you what was going on. You said any amount of divergence counted, as long as it was greater than zero. Eric was hiding her from you. I couldn't figure out what he was doing with some girl from Amity. Then I realized he wanted her because she is Divergent. He knew. Even if the number is low, you said it counts."

"It does," Jeanine agreed, but her words weren't impressed. "Three percent is –"

"She's the only one we've found in months. They're getting rarer and rarer. Better at hiding, which is why we can't find them. This one was dumb enough to believe Eric liked her. He kept going to Amity and then I heard about her and I heard she wasn't fitting in very well. He brought her to Dauntless, and when I saw her there, I figured it out. It was easier to keep her in Dauntless than lose her in Amity."

"What about the marriage?" Jeanine looked at me, squinting as though I weren't real.

"It was real. He needed her to stay in Dauntless. It was an attempt to throw everyone off his track. He was going to present her to you to look like he was the only one capable of finding Divergents. Everything is a game to him." Jeremy grew worked up, and he stopped to grasp me by the hand. He held it up, waving it at Jeanine like it proved something. "No wedding ring. No matching tattoo. No matching Leadership tattoo. Nothing to tie her to him except a piece of paper he threw in the trash."

"She's not a leader," Jeanine returned to her report, dismissive as ever. "She's not even –"

"Are you going to test her or what?" Jeremy snapped, and my chances of making it out alive dwindled even further. "Are you…

He stopped speaking when the doors opened. There was an electronic beep, followed by a hum of approval, and they swung open so Eric could walk through. He walked arrogantly, his uniform darker and newer, and the blue stripe practically glowing. He tilted his head when he saw me, until it stuck at the odd angle. I waited for him to nod in reassurance or throw me a smile and announce this was a misunderstanding, considering he'd pressed his lips to the side of my head early this morning. But when our eyes met, there was nothing.

Not an ounce of recognition or feeling.

Just a blank, indifferent stare.

"What are you doing? How long has she been here?"

"A few minutes," Jeanine answered him coolly. She closed the report with a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is your best work? Really?"

"You said yourself she was a threat," Eric answered slickly, and he stared at me so intently I had to shut my eyes. "I thought you wanted all Divergents, no matter what. Everly is…"

"She's disappointing at best. If someone couldn't pass at ninety percent, how will they pass with three percent?"

The ache in my stomach was almost unbearable. They went back and forth, arguing like I wasn't even sitting there about a test I knew nothing about. Every so often, Jeremy chimed in, insisting the number meant nothing. In his mind, I'd gotten into Dauntless without even trying. I'd been given access to a faction which wasn't mine. I'd gotten close to Eric.

I was capable of anything.

Except rational thinking.

I looked up at Eric to find his grey eyes trained on me, and I remembered our last night together. The way he'd looked up at me, the way his fingers had dug into my skin, the way he'd asked me to tell him I loved him. He'd baited me, trying to mock my asking if he'd ever love me, because he knew he couldn't.

He'd been telling me all along not to trust him, and I hadn't bothered to listen.

"Eric…"

I said his name quietly, hoping to jar something in him. I'd spent a lot of time with Eric. I'd spent hours in Amity, hoping he'd show up. I'd spent time in his truck, time in his bedroom, time in his bed. I'd touched skin beneath the dark shirts and dark pants, and I'd learned all sorts of things about him. Who he was, or the person he wanted me to think he was.

I still clung to the ounce of hope that he'd been honest. Had he really done all this, coming to visit me in Amity and taking me to see Arlene, demanding she make me not sick, all because he was going to drag me in to Jeanine and have me tested? Was this really what it took to get what he wanted? Was this really how it all ended? Me, trapped in Erudite, about to be given some test where it was likely I wouldn't survive, let alone pass.

It was.

Eric walked over until he was right in front of me. His fingers touched my jaw, tilting it to the side so he could press one along the side of my neck. "Give her a minute. Let me explain what's happening, and then I'll do it."

"No, way. I brought her in. I get to do it," Jeremy insisted, and Eric's grip grew tighter as he looked down.

"Everly…"

"Don't say her fucking name. You don't owe her shit. You said it yourself. Everyone has a job in Dauntless, including you. Don't fucking change your mind now. You trained me for this. You showed me the list of names and hers is on it!" Jeremy was ruthless with his words, and ruthless with whatever he was planning on doing. My eyes met Eric's as Jeremy neared me, and I tried to jerk away before he got close.

"No!"

My shriek did nothing to stop him or the pain. Jeremy was prepared for this moment, more so than anyone. He jammed the needle into my neck, as sharply as Arlene's work, and I gasped when the burning pain started. Eric's stare grew dark. He shoved Jeremy away to grasp the syringe and it went deeper until he ripped it out.

"That's too much! That's not even the right dose." He snarled, and he threw the syringe off to the side. "It won't work now."

"It'll work. She'll just be drowsy until it ends. Maybe after, if she makes it through," Jeanine called out, watching all of this unfold. My brain screamed at me to stand up. To run away as fast as I could. The door didn't appear to be locked from the inside, nor was it very far. I could get out, go downstairs, and

and

and

Everything turned blurry.

In front of me, Eric bent down. His fingers returned to my face, and he was cold. For the first time, his touch was icy, and he pried my head up to look at him.

"Everly?"

I tried to focus on him, but it was impossible. The room changed and blurred, softening the sharpness of his face and the darkness of his jacket. It amplified the crack of his knees when he knelt down to take my face in both his hands, and it made him glow. His eyes were less blank now, and in them, was the faintest speck of remorse.

"This wasn't how this was supposed to happen," he murmured, and my heart rate sped up. "I tried to warn you. I told you what I did here. I thought I could change things before they figured out what was going on."

"Eric…"

His lips parted, and my cheeks grew warm, wet, as I shook my head. A thousand, million thoughts ran through, but almost all of them led me back to the times when I was so sure he felt something for me. The times when he told me about his father, or the time when he was furious about his mother. His insult had been real. I felt it, so tangible I could have reached out and taken it into my hands. It was impossible none of it meant anything, or I'd imagined it had happened.

It cracked apart when he bent forward, and his head touched mine.

"You'll be alright. I promise."

"Why?"

He didn't answer me.

His hands left my cheeks, and I heard him say something to Jeremy. The simulation started before I could realize what was going on. There was a cracking sound, a loud explosion that rang out in my ears, and then silence, as the entire room went dark and I went under, right along with it.

The simulation was endless.

It mirrored my dreams, ridiculing me over and over, showing me that all along, I had been brave.

I'd dismissed the thought my entire life. To me, there was no honor in anything I'd done. I hadn't been fearless or heroic, nor had I done anything great to save anyone. To my surprise, the simulation showed me otherwise, though I feared it was simply going haywire.

On a day when the snow was threatening to fall, I saw myself punch Landon. I saw myself tell the truth as no one listened, and I saw myself grow furious when they chose to believe him over me. I saw real anger, real heartbreak, and real frustration as my own world was taken out of my hands, lie by lie. I saw myself with Eric, offering him anything and everything, so desperate to connect with someone, so incredibly lost as I fought to save myself, merely wanting someone to believe me.

I saw myself sitting in his truck, my skirt pulled up beneath my feet and my hair everywhere as we ate salads. I saw myself walking up to him, in the middle of the woods, not afraid for a single second. I saw other things, too, dreams or other realities, and I wondered if any of them were real. I watched my mother and Harrison walk along the lake, pausing as he told her how sorry he was and she promised him she'd never once not forgiven him. I saw Forrest and Willow, happy and content, as he rescued her from a life of nothing and kissed the top of her head while he said good morning. I saw Zander, looking up at the stars in the night sky, naming them while Wesley and Leif half listened.

I stood silent while May informed Holly and Paisley everything would be just fine, and I stood like a ghost in a nightmare while Carole grudgingly gave Jerry one of her prized chickens as a peace offering. I saw other things, Jason and Not Jason, laughing as they sat on the outskirts of Amity, trying to search my name in a database, guessing my height incorrectly, on purpose. I saw Tris and Four, sitting in the mess hall, sneaking a smile at each other while Quinten slammed hamburgers down in front of them, only to later walk home together, dark shirts in a dark hallway, with a tiny glimmer of light flickering above them.

I saw myself, standing before Eric in a white dress, looking up at him. The collar of his shirt was black, so black it seemed like a color I'd never seen before, and I wanted to touch it. I did. I reached up, skimming starched fabric and inked skin, and his eyes closed.

He said he was sorry.

It was low. Muttered and murmured, for real affection and sorrow did not come naturally to him. A life of calculated expectations had made him cold, and the few nights we shared were the only warmth he'd ever known.

I saw it all, bravery and terror and honor, and I realized there was no difference amongst them. I'd been brave when I didn't know it, honorable as I refused to let someone else decide my fate, and terrified at my own fearlessness. I'd risked it all for the chance of something, anything, and in the end, I lost everything.

The thought was comforting as the simulation wound down. It was like one of the shows I'd watched on Eric's couch, as the glow of the screen dimmed and the music tapered off. It happened just like that, one final image of Eric telling me to keep my head down, and one more warm, low, utterly desperate apology not meant for me.

Then, it was over.

This time, the sun is cold.

It bears no warmth, but it coats my skin in fading rays. I pull the white sweater tighter, blinking up at the cloudless sky, and I hurry.

Amity is nearly deserted.

I walk along the dirt pathway, familiar as ever, and I wave hello to the few walking home. They all smile, warm and happy, and a few look worried. I smile wider, hoping to reassure them I am fine, and no one believes me.

They shouldn't.

I'd shown up a month ago.

After an endless rush of everything I'd ever worried about, I opened my eyes expecting nothingness. Death, maybe. A white room with Jeanine and Jeremy hovering over me, or maybe Eric, pleased with the test results. Instead, I opened my eyes to my old bedroom and my same pink sheets. I sat up quickly, the wave of nausea just as intense as the simulation had been, and it took a long time for me to move.

My room was the same.

Dark, wooden walls with pink flowers on the windowsill. White curtains. A closet stuffed with dresses of varying shades of pastels, and a few brighter ones. Worn, soft boots bought at the general store. Snow boots, some flats, shoved in the corner until it was warm enough to wear them, and a pair of rainboots for when Zander and I went walking through a storm.

I wasn't sure it was real. I threw the covers back and put my feet on the floor carefully, fully afraid I was still in the simulation. I expected Eric to appear out of nowhere, or the floor to disintegrate beneath my feet.

Nothing happened.

Down the hallway, Wesley yelled for my mother to come help him, and Leif yelled at everyone asking if they knew where his shirt was. Holly and Paisley told everyone to be quiet because Zander was sleeping, and downstairs, Harrison cheerfully told everyone they were going to be late for school. It was surreal, the hint of an alternate universe, in my own home. Harrison called my name, and reality swayed back and forth so quickly I barely made it to the bathroom in time.

It took a few days to calm down.

Once I did, I wasn't sure what had happened. Harrison did his best to explain it. I'd undergone a simulation meant to unlock some secret about being Divergent. Jeanine wanted this information for her own benefit, and Eric had once been the person helping her find the key to solving the mystery. His loyalty to her had given him everything he wanted in his life, up until that very moment where she was taking away what he really wanted.

Me.

The problem was my divergence was barely enough to do anything. Even with the large dose, the serum malfunctioned, for a few reasons, and in the end, I was subjected to my own memories, some hallucinations, and one near death experience.

After who knows how long under extreme duress, my heart rate eventually dropped low enough to cause panic. My assumption was that moment happened when I heard Eric say he was sorry. Harrison couldn't tell me what happened after that. He only said he got there in time, because as luck would have it, he easily put together what was going on and made his way to Erudite without any hesitation. He showed up shortly after I was well into the hellscape, and he walked into a bloodbath.

He didn't tell me all the details.

He did tell me Eric tried to stop it. He said he arrived to see Eric shoving Jeremy against a wall, and Jeanine screaming for them to knock it off. Jeremy wound up being tossed through a large panel of glass, but it wasn't enough. It sparked something in Eric that sent him spiraling into a fit of rage, and he shot Jeremy in the head over and over. When he was done, he turned to his aunt, and fired his last remaining bullet.

She died in a lackluster manner.

Gasping for him to stop and trying to press her own blood back into her skin.

Harrison went on to explain, over cold cereal and bright sunlight, that once Eric told him what happened, Harrison made him leave. He told him to wait outside, to secure the exits and make sure no one came up to the office, and he'd come get him and they'd go back to Dauntless. He promised him he'd fix this, and the first step was getting me out of there.

Eric listened.

I wasn't surprised Eric believed him, nor was I shocked he'd tried to stop the simulation. My guess was he felt guilty. His guilt manifested into raw fury, and when he couldn't undo what Jeremy had done, he took it out on him.

I don't remember any of it, not standing up or looking at Harrison, not even when he told me to stay quiet, or when he guided me down a stairwell. We left without saying anything to Eric, or even seeing him.

I faintly remember Harrison saying we were going home, and this was the last time anyone would ever try to hurt me. I vaguely remember Harrison's truck, unfamiliar and rumbling, but fast, and it felt like a faint memory as he turned down a back road into the furthest part of the Amity faction.

Eric lost it once he realized he'd been lied to.

He went straight to Amity, but Harrison had already called a few friends for backup. By the time Eric got there, Amity's border was lined with men and women no longer willing to take any shit from a rogue leader. They shot at him as soon as he showed up, and when he screamed for Harrison to stop them, someone screamed back that the Amity faction would no longer be in contact with Dauntless. They were seceding. They would help on a strictly business basis; deliveries would go out as normal, so long as Dauntless kept their distance and didn't set a foot on Amity land. Eric laughed, but they were right.

Harrison cut ties as soon as I was back with him. He had my mother come get me, and a few disgusting teas later, the serum wore off, and I collapsed into bed, and slept until sleeping became too much.

Now, it had been a month since a single soul from Dauntless had come here.

In a lot of ways, it was nice. The faction was quiet. Calm. Silent at night, but heavily guarded by Harrison's army. They took pride in their new positions, and he took pride in keeping us all safe. The whole thing left the Dauntless faction reeling, and in turn, Abnegation followed suit.

So did Candor.

Dauntless was left with a weak alliance with Erudite.

The news traveled quickly, sparking both outrage and triumph. The outrage came that this never happened sooner. The triumph came when one of the Dauntless trucks stalled in the Candor streets, and the crowd grew. They didn't help or offer to lend a hand, they began to yell for them to leave, to get out, and Dauntless soon realized the Candor faction wouldn't help.

I didn't care.

Dauntless and Erudite could test their serums on each other for all it mattered. I no longer concerned myself with who was doing what, or what alliance entangled with the others. I'd experienced more in the past few months than I ever wanted to, and it left me feeling furious.

Sometimes though, like today, when my stomach hurts a little more and my skirt fits a little less loosely than it did before, I think of Eric. I think of the way I truly did love him, even if he never loved me. The thought of trusting him hurts, like a swift kick in the ribs, but I find myself grateful I'd experienced it.

Because without heartbreak, there was no love.

And for just a little while, for those few fleeting moments and warm, late nights, I got to feel something an awful lot like love.

"Can the moon crush you?"

Zander looks up at me from the bathtub, and his question is a serious one.

The previous ones –was the moon made out of cheese, did aliens exist, and had I ever been to outer space –were serious, too.

"I don't think so," I shake my head, and I rise up on my knees to rinse his hair. The dark strands are slicked back completely, and in my absence, he hasn't at all abandoned his quest to be as Dauntless as possible. I felt a pang of sympathy at this, knowing the Dauntless faction was currently one of the least popular and he would find more happiness here than there. "It would have to fall from the sky and I don't think that can happen."

"Gravity," Zander throws out, and he dunks himself beneath the water, sending it lapping over the edge and onto the floor. He emerges with glee, and gestures for me to rinse the bubbles out of his hair again. "It could. Everly, are you sad? Did you fall? Did you hit your head?"

I shake my head no, and I rinse his hair again, doing my best to keep an even expression.

Zander isn't my responsibility in any way these days, but I find myself volunteering to look after him. He's a great distraction. Always up for an adventure, and always needing something. He smiles up at me forcefully, then makes a face showing all his teeth.

"Daddy said Eric was bad," he confesses, not at all quietly. "Daddy said "Time out, Eric." He said –"

"Which…who is daddy?" I help him put conditioner in his hair. It's longer than I remember, sort of curling up in crazy places, and he lets me since he knows it'll help me brush it out. "Harrison or…"

"Daddy."

There is no difference for him.

Zander loved whole heartedly. He didn't care who wanted the title of his father, just that they took him on whatever escapade he wanted. My guess was it was Harrison he heard talking, and I realize I have no idea how this dynamic was working. Were my brothers and sisters going to see our dad? Was Zander? Did he like Kerrie? Had he met her? Did his little mind work overtime to separate the two male figures in his life, or did it willingly accept them as one?

"Okay, well, let's get you out and ready for bed. Do you want to sleep in my room?" I look at him hopefully, thinking painfully I've come full circle. Months ago, I was locking him out of my room. Now, I'm hoping he'll say yes, because the thought of sleeping alone made my chest hurt. "Or are you sleeping in your room?"

"On the moon," he laughs like he's told the funniest joke in the world, and he misses my miserable nod. "You can come. I have room."

He laughs again, verging on tired hysterics, and I smile as I squeeze the water from his hair.

"Sure." I pull the drain in the bathtub, and Zander shrieks as the water gurgles down. He waits until the last minute to climb out, and he touches my neck with his hand.

"You okay?"

His fingers poke at my skin, right where Jeremy had stabbed me. It still stung, and every so often, I could feel the memory of poison slipping beneath my skin, burning through my veins with an unstoppable force.

"You know what, I will be." I smile at him, wrapping him in the oversized green towel, and he smiles back.

He doesn't end up staying in my room tonight, but it's alright. I fall asleep on his bed, reading him a story about pirates and sea monsters and a one-legged villain who looks nothing like Eric. I dream of nothing, and for once, when I wake up, I'm not so sure the moon couldn't fall out of orbit, and if it did, hopefully it would land right on top of Dauntless.

On an even colder day in January, I think I see him.

Visitors aren't rare these days. We get plenty from Abnegation, still dutifully helping out the factionless. In a lot of ways, Harrison's changes are for the better. We still provide produce to the factions, but we have stronger ties with those who now see how valuable we are. We slowly lost the title of weakest faction once they realized they couldn't grow their own food. Candor tried. They gave it a shot, in the heart of winter, only to realize the specialized green houses were built for a reason. After three weeks of silence, Jack Kang himself appeared, and humbly asked to form a partnership. He didn't like being left out, and Abnegation willingly agreed three factions working together was better than two.

Erudite grudgingly accepted the crates of food.

Dauntless tried. Max pleaded with Harrison, trying every trick in the book. He threw some weak rant about loyalty and respect at him, reminding him of his pledge to help protect the factions, and even tried to arrest him. He sent Jason and Rylan, both looking at me pleadingly from behind a wall of farmers who weren't letting them in, and their best attempt was to yell out my name and tell me Eric was miserable.

I kept walking.

Between feeling sick to my stomach half the time, and the dull headache that wouldn't go away, I wasn't in a great mood these days. I snuck out today to go see Hank, and I stop by the bank of the lake, freezing in pure horror when reality slaps me in the face.

Eric stands right at the edge of the woods, as close as he can get without someone seeing him.

I blink at the sight, his blonde hair severely parted but longer than I remember, and his uniform jacket askew. It's dull, no longer the stark black and shiny blue, but worn. His eyes follow me for a moment, hard and unfriendly, and when I blink, he's gone.

He was never there.

Or maybe he was. Reality was fuzzy these days and compounded by my lack of sleep and lack of interest in eating, I sometimes couldn't trust what I was seeing.

I press my palms over my eyes so hard I see stars, and when I pull them away, the empty forest spans before me.

"Hey! Hey! Let me walk with you. It's freezing out."

The voice belongs to Andy, warm and friendly and having fully recovered from being attacked in the greenhouse. He was the first person to welcome me back, and the only person to not treat me like the factional pariah. It's not that everyone is afraid of me, it's that they didn't know how to handle my return.

Neither did I.

So, I let them have their space. I spent most of my time at home, trying to get Harrison to tell me what was going on.

"I'm alright. Thank you. I'm going to see…my dad." I answer honestly, and Andy flashes me a bright grin. He liked Hank. He worked with Hank. He sometimes reminded me of Landon in that aspect, and I sometimes feared an awkward marriage proposal would show up at any moment. "Do you want to come?"

"I'd love to."

Andy and I walk on together, and I try to ignore the feeling of being watched. Once I'd returned to Amity, Harrison shut down all the cameras. He and his friends cut the wires, then tossed the cameras in the lake. The last one left standing was mounted on the wall in his office, as a strange momento of a different time, but mostly like a deranged trophy.

It sat above an oversized fish, one with tangled fangs and a mean frown, and it made me slink away every time I saw it.

"Are you okay, Everly? Do you want to talk about…" Andy pauses to think of a delicate way to ask if I wanted to talk about being arrested, being married to one of the leaders of Dauntless, then being brought in to be tested and nearly killed, then returned to Amity by its newest leader and treated like I might shatter if someone looked at me wrong. "…the party next week?"

"Sure. I'm really looking forward to going," I smile back, and Andy is thrilled.

I'm less thrilled, but I don't have to be, and I'm fine with that.

Personal growth is hard. It stings, chipping away at my entire nervous system with each step. Letting go of what happened but not forgetting, all while trying to decompartmentalize the strange past few months often felt impossible. Sometimes, the factions blurred together until I couldn't differentiate the memories between the two.

Amity had parties.

Dauntless had parties.

Dauntless had an entire rooftop for parties. I never did get to celebrate New Year's, and I never did get to see what Eric's friends had planned. I sometimes wish I'd never gone, because it hurt to know an entire world existed elsewhere. I miss Christina, her shriek of joy every time I saw her, and I even miss Tris. I miss Four in a weird way, almost like I'm missing a friendship that never really got the chance to be an actual friendship but could have been.

I miss a lot of things, but Amity is safe, and Dauntless isn't. Eric isn't even safe, if he's alive.

Two days ago, Harrison told me Eric had been forced to take some time off. His meltdown over what had happened was epic according to the rumors. Eric destroyed his office, then Max's. He fought Tori until someone ripped him off her, and nearly killed Jason for suggesting he go home. He punched Rylan in the face, violently taking his anger out on his closest friends, only to be subdued when Rylan wryly informed him that I wouldn't approve of him punching him like that.

I sat silent while Harrison told me all this, imagining Eric returning to the apartment where my clothes were. I wondered if they were still in his closet beside his jackets, or if he'd thrown them away.

I didn't bother to ask.

Each day without him felt like someone was pressing on the bruise on my neck. It was still there, dark and gloomy, and at night it throbbed. I didn't ask for anything to put on it, because I liked the feeling. It reminded me of him, and I knew I was being stupid. I'd come to the conclusion that love is stupid, almost as stupid as the serum that didn't work, but it was one hell of a drug.

Even worse was the thought that while Eric might not have loved me, he had believed in me at some point.

That one stung on every level. He was the first person to believe me about Landon, and the only person watching to make sure I stayed alive. Even if he only wanted me because of some percentage, I believed he was lying to himself about why he kept coming back. I refused to believe he had felt absolutely nothing. I was hardly the best he could do given either situation, and he knew it. He'd liked me enough to want me to stay with him when he could have just taken me to Jeanine a million times over.

If what Jeremy said was true, Eric's only motive in getting to know me being he wanted to bring me in for testing, then Eric was shitty at his job. He could have easily arrested me or kidnapped me far sooner. None of this had to happen, just for a lousy percentage that wound up meaning nothing.

"Me too. Your brother said we might have two bonfires. That sounds really cool. He said there's a band that wants to play. Maybe two bands?"

I don't answer Andy.

It wouldn't be cool, but it would be better than sitting in my room, staring at the notebook Harrison had left for me.

It was the same as before, except for the space beneath my name.

In Harrison's handwriting, there's a line with the percentage already crossed out, because they no longer mattered. The name before it is left blank, since there is no name yet, except for a last name.

It sits there, written in black ink, thick and legible, begging for me to go save him.

Coulter.

Hank is very happy to see me.

He crushes me against his chest, carefully, and doesn't let go. He feels like home in a different way than Harrison does, and I find comfort in knowing that'll never change. I throw my arms around him, soaking in the feeling of his warm flannel shirt against my cheek, and I close my eyes until he says my name.

"I've thought about you every day. Harrison told me…. he promised me you'd be safe. Then he brought you back and you were…you were so out of it. He said he got out before things got bad, but I was so mad at him. I've never been so mad before. I thought you were hurt. Everly…"

"It's not his fault. I swear. He was a huge help in Dauntless. It just…it got crazy at the end," I look up, and Hank shakes his head. He looks better than the last time I saw him, and I'm happy that his new life seems to be doing him some good. Andy walked me here, then got called away to help the neighbor coax her cow back inside. "Is Kerrie here? I'd love to meet her."

"Are you sure?"

Hank stares at me in disbelief. We've come a long way from him believing Landon over me, to insisting I marry someone I loathed so his friend would be happy. Harrison was good and kind and he had gone to hell and back for me, but Hank still held a huge level of importance I couldn't ignore.

"Yeah, Harrison told me she was staying. I wanted to come visit you both."

"She's been wanting to meet you," he nods, and he looks over his shoulder and calls for her. "Kerrie? Everly is here."

For a brief moment, I consider the weirdness of all this. My father, now in my mind as Hank, is about to introduce me to a woman Harrison had suggested stay with him. The nature of their relationship was pretty quiet. Over breakfast, Harrison told me Kerrie and her husband had split up a year ago. She was staying with her sister until her sister got married, and Kerrie was sort of pushed out. She was younger than my mother, but not by much, had no other relatives or family here, and didn't want to impose on anyone. Harrison decided it would be helpful to have her stay with Hank, and Hank gave her a room without any question.

Other than that, no one knew much.

But when I see her come around the corner, I know she won't be leaving anytime soon.

"Your father said you're the strongest woman he knows."

Kerrie smiles at me, and she's pretty in a startling way. She reminds me of the dolls in the general store, shoved onto a high shelf so the little children couldn't break them. Her hair is long, tumbling down to her lower back in loose, blonde curls. Her dress is white and pink, pretty and more elegant than what most wore, and her shoes are velvet. Her voice is shockingly soft, almost like she can't speak above a whisper, and her eyes are dark.

In some ways, she looks like my mother.

In other ways, she's nothing like her. She's fragile, like she's been crushed, maybe by the moon, and skittish. There's a blue flower pinned on the side of her hair, and her nails are a matching pale blue. She hums while she fixes my father's shirt, neatly stitching up a side my mother had fixed a dozen times over, and she's slower but precise.

I expect to feel a wave of rage at the sight of her. Her place here is not just as his roommate, not even with the slow burning distance between my mother and Hank. She didn't split them up or tear them apart, and this might not even last.

But her care for him is evident, even knowing he came with a slew of children, not even all his, but all claiming a tiny part of him. I wonder if she ever feels like there is anything left over for her, but she knows there is.

I do, too.

He brings her tea, arranged on a plate decorated with hand painted flowers, and sinks onto the sofa beside her. They sit close together while she sews, and the silence in their home is overwhelming. He must need this, after so many years of all of us under one roof, all demanding his attention. I know there are rooms here for my brothers and sisters, and my heart sinks a little at this.

"I'm not, but thank you." I take a sip of my own tea, something warm and soothing, and Hank looks at me curiously.

"Everly, what's wrong?"

"Would you like some toast?"

He and Kerrie speak at the same time. Kerrie's face tenses, thinking she's ruined this moment by simply existing, and I understand her completely. Not everyone had to be doing their most. She didn't need to run around and perform and make herself likeable. She was fine, absolutely lovely, and probably what my father needed after loving a woman who was still in love with someone else.

"If I ever wanted to stay with you, could I? Even just for a night?" I pull my own dress down, and I sink into the sweater. It's Hank's, warm and knitted by my mother, and he'd left it behind when he moved out. "Harrison said there are rooms here for –"

"Of course, there's a room for you. Don't you even think otherwise. The house is huge. Zander stayed over a few nights ago. He said we have a better view of the sky at night. You're always welcome to stay with us." Hank interrupts me before I can say the terrible words, and he knows what's wrong. He leaves Kerrie to sit by me, and he pulls me closer, letting me collapse against him. "I'm going to go grab you some lunch. Do you have time to stay? Your mother said you didn't have anything to do today."

"I don't have anything going on. I'd love to stay," I smile as he stands up, and he tells Kerrie he'll be back. She insists on helping, and he insists on her staying with me. I wait until he's gone, then I look at her, looking at me. "Are you…you like my…my dad?"

The word isn't anything stressful. I just want her to know he'll always be important to me, even if he decides he wants her to stay here forever.

Which he will.

Her presence is everywhere, pressed right into the flowery wallpaper of the hallway.

"I do. He's very kind. He let me stay when I had nowhere else to go. Harrison suggested it. He told me, your dad was the best person he knew, and he'd help me for as long as I needed," she pauses to take a sip of her tea, and her eyes are wide at the romanticism of such a gesture. "I didn't come with any intention. I was just looking for a roof over my head. I didn't know I needed a friend."

"Me either," I look back at her, and in the kitchen, I hear my father rummaging through the cabinet for bread. "I'm glad you're staying here with him. I was worried he'd be alone."

The thought had hit me a few times, but it was a stress I simply couldn't take on.

"He told me you were married, but your husband is not here. And something bad happened?" Kerrie tries to make sense of the situation, but I don't have any more of an idea than she does.

I shake my head no, trying not to laugh at the idea of being Eric's wife.

It felt like ages ago since I saw the paperwork, and even longer since I asked him if we were married. I could still hear his confession, like a secret just for us, whispered against my cheek on that dark night.

I could also feel the weight of the marriage, still legally binding, still tying us together.

"He's in Dauntless. I don't know what he's doing, but it just…didn't work out." I leave out the part where he may have married me solely to turn me in to Jeanine. "That's okay, though. I should probably follow up on that at some point, but I think I have time."

"You do," Kerrie answers, and we both look up when there's a crash in the kitchen and a yelp of protest as the plates hit the counter. "I think your father needs some help."

"I'll go with you," I set my tea down on the end table, and we both stand up.

I follow her into the kitchen, feeling strange that she knows the way and I don't, but I smile when Hank insists both of us sit at the table. The afternoon slips away into a new normalcy, and I find myself reluctant to leave.

Their house is warm, full of kindness and happiness, and it makes it all the worse when they both hug me goodbye and I walk home alone in the bitter cold.

One dark, clear night, I sit on the roof.

In retrospect, it's the dumbest place possible. It was terrifying to climb up here, not because of the height, but because of the rickety ladder and Harrison affectionately warning us we'd fall to our death. He told us we were crazy to want to come up here, but Sophia claimed the view was the best to see the shooting stars. I went along willingly, and now I sit squished between Sophia and Courtney.

Below us, the rest of Amity gathers around not one, and not two, but three large bonfires. Each one is enormous, billowing up high into the night sky, but starting to burn out. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Forrest throwing water on one, and Willow cheering him on from the sidelines.

The air is sharp up here, biting as a gust of wind whips by, but familiar. I watch Zander help Forrest douse the second fire, and Wesley and Leif work on the third. I'd spent most of the party with my friends. Our reunion was seamless; they approved of my return, and they loathed the thought of what happened with Eric. They were on my side, carefully pointing out a number of eligible bachelors who would be willing to marry me, and a few who'd bravely declared they'd take Eric to Candor to dissolve the marriage if I asked.

I didn't.

"Hey, do you, do you think Eric is looking for you? Or he'll come looking for you?" Courtney nudges me, then scoots closer. Her boots hit mine, and they are identical to the ones I have on.

"Harrison said he'd shoot him if he came back here." Sophia answers before I can. She scoots closer, too, and links her arm through mine to keep her balance.

They both look at me, and it's impossible to look at them at the same time. I look at the crowd beneath us, laughing as Forrest hops away from a large spike of fire.

"He won't come back. He has no reason to," I shrug, taking comfort in my friends and their sudden, intense desire to keep me safe.

I didn't need them to.

Eric hadn't done anything other than lie about what he felt for me. His grand plan of securing me as the last or great Divergent felt weaker and weaker the more I thought about it. He'd had every opportunity to turn me in way before he arrested me. Married me. Took me to Arlene, frantic that I didn't feel good. The more I tried to decipher what had happened, the more I believed Eric was afraid of what he felt and he truly didn't know what Jeremy was doing.

It was a good hope to hold onto.

I didn't really have anything else, and it felt better than believing he just wanted to prove to Jeanine his worth. It didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things, but it did mean that I had the ability to move on. It was starting to get easier to sleep at night, though I still stayed up late with Harrison most of the time, and it meant I no longer felt manic when I looked in the mirror, and the changes I'd ignored before weren't so easy to hide.

"Everly, what would you say to him? Would you tell him he sucks or what? Or that you hate him?" Courtney is rightfully angry, and her tone hinges on unbreakable rage. "If I ever see him, I'm going to slap him in the face. He tried to kill you!"

"You don't have to slap him. He didn't try to kill me. He just…was involved," I shake my head. "From what I heard, he's been miserable ever since that day. I don't think it was Eric's plan. I think Jeremy wanted revenge on Eric for something. I don't know."

"Gross. Well, I hope he stays away. I can't imagine having anything to say to him? Do you?" Sophia tightens her grip on me, and I fall silent.

I stare at the crowd beneath me, feeling like I'm back in Dauntless. They mill around in small groups, passing drinks and snacks between them. The atmosphere is happy, easygoing, and celebratory, and it should be. Harrison had announced we were on speaking terms with the new leader of Erudite, a young woman named Cara, and she wanted to mend the bridge that had been burned.

He seemed reluctant to trust her, and I didn't blame him.

"Everly?

I finally look up when the first bang goes off. The roaring fires below us have gone out completely, and the whole faction stares up at the sky.

There, above the darkest and thickest part of the trees, is a burst of pink. A second one shoots up, exploding in the sky in a dazzling array, and it glitters as it falls down. More go off, one after another, and I realize they are fireworks. They burn brightly as they burst over and over, leaving streaks of color behind.

"Whoa!" Sophia slides down a bit to get closer, and she points to the woods. "Where are they coming from?"

"Over there!" Courtney points, and I alternate between trying to watch the fireworks and trying to figure out where they're being shot from.

From the looks of where she's pointing, it's somewhere just beyond the Amity border.

"How do you set them off?" Courtney wonders, and she points again, to a brilliant display of a dozen bursts.

They aren't timed out in any order, but they pick up in speed as the minutes pass. Two go off in a row, then three. The third one of the group is a light pink, nearly white, and it stays in the sky the longest. I watch until they burn out, and the sky quickly turns dark.

Amity lets out a roar of disappointment when the show is over.

The inky stars quickly extinguish the remaining traces of the fireworks, consuming them before they can fall back to Earth. I wait for more, but there are none. Just a fizzle of disappointment from the crowd below, and a whistle of appreciation from Forrest.

At the very edge of the bonfire, Harrison stares into the woods with a menacing scowl.

"You know, if I saw him, I would tell Eric I loved him, and I'm sorry he never knew."

Sophia and Courtney look at me like I'm insane, but I don't care.

I stare at the sky until my eyes hurt, and Harrison returns to coax us down off the roof.

My mother's assistant is not much older than me.

She makes a few notes on my chart, takes my temperature by pressing something to my forehead, and she checks my pulse. My mother frowns at all this, but she smiles at me, promising she'll be right back with some water.

"How are you feeling? Are you still sick?"

I stare up at her face, sort of angular and pointy, and I know she's from Erudite. Her red hair is pulled back in a low bun, and the coat is the same one I'd seen in the Erudite hospital. I wonder if she works with Daniel, or if she knows who he is.

I don't ask.

"I'm feeling a little better. I think the worst is over."

I sort of lean away from her, not wanting to be here.

Jeremy, a rotten person and total traitor, was also a terrible liar. The test results on the report weren't real at all, and he knew it. I'd been given some dummy paperwork with a list of bullshit tests that were never run in an attempt to lure me to Jeanine. Arlene's frantic phone calls had been to get me down there to tell me I was pregnant, and I can only assume she knew something was about to happen.

I think of her now, her organized infirmary hidden beneath layers of rocky Earth, and I wonder if she remembers me. I know she'd loathe this infirmary.

"Do you know how far along you are?" The assistant writes something else, scribbles I can't make out, and she pauses. "And the father is –"

"I don't know how far along I am. I don't think it matters," I answer flatly, and even her clinical expertise can't hide her surprise. "It's not that I'm not happy, or I don't care. I just haven't felt good for a long time. I figure at some point, I'll figure it out because the baby will be born."

She stares at me in utter horror at my lack of knowledge about when I could have gotten pregnant.

It wasn't something I was up for debating. I'd willingly had sex with Eric, more than once. He'd never asked about any sort of birth control up until I saw Arlene, and my guess was he had originally assumed I was on something. Every other woman before me had probably taken care of it themselves. Ashley was older, presumably smarter, and had access to all kinds of stuff I didn't.

I had tea.

A tea I'd drunk a few times and then tossed out.

In my naivety, I assumed I would be fine. Later on, Eric seemed to want a family, and it only built up the grand belief that he cared for me in a way he couldn't explain. I had been willing to risk it all to stay with him, even going as far as to think about having a baby with him. My last week in Dauntless had been filled with signs I'd been ignoring: an exhaustion so strong I couldn't fight it, the urge to curl up against his chest and just stay there, with my fingers curled into his shirt and my legs over him, and the lingering nausea.

The nausea was the worst.

Bad enough that I've made the decision I won't be having any other children ever again.

"Do I have to go somewhere else to have the baby? Or do I just have it here? The father is…in another faction."

My words bring up a slew of questions that no one really has answers to. Interfactional love affairs never ended well. My mother was living proof of the tragedy they brought. There was no way anyone was letting me go to Dauntless to talk to Eric or inform him about his child, and no way I could split my time between both places. The best scenario was he didn't know, and that seemed to be the only plausible outcome.

"Your mom will help you, I'm sure. If the baby's father is," she pauses, and I catch her name on her jacket. "If the baby's father holds a high enough position, you can give birth wherever you'd like. Erudite has a fantastic facility. Candor has a smaller hospital, but it's well staffed and very clean. I personally wouldn't pick Abnegation, but the women there are very supportive. A few are coming to intern here with Eden." Cassidy finishes this speech with a smile, and I know she thinks I'm an idiot. "You're young and healthy. I'm sure everything will go just fine."

"Oh, I'm sure. I don't think anything else could go wrong. My life is going amazingly well these days," I answer dryly, and my mother throws me a dark look as she returns with a drink. "Do you need anything else from me?"

I take the drink from my mom, and she glances at her assistant. I hate that it seems like they're having an entire conversation without speaking, and I hate it more when they both nod.

It's how I wind up trying to remember the last time I had sex with Eric, right along with the first time.

At some point, when the wind chill isn't below zero and the sky is less grey, Willow gives birth.

I just happen to be there for my own appointment, disliking everything about being pregnant so far, and I was called in to help. I had thought I might panic, since Willow was doing her best not to scream or cry, and it looked like it hurt. Her contractions were quick, and with each one, she asked for her mother.

Not Forrest.

She tearfully told me, in between waves of pain and relief, that he was driving her insane. She loved him dearly, but his voice hurt her ears and she threw up the last time he tried to hold her hand. So my mother sent Forrest to go find Willow's mother, and I was tasked with sitting by her.

"Don't do it, Everly. Don't have the baby!" Willow cried even harder, and she crushed my hand in hers, yanking me closer. "He's going to think I can't do this! Forrest is going to leave and…and oh FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!"

My nephew was born minutes later.

He was slippery and bloody, and my mother handed him to me to clean up while she helped Willow. The other people assisting her immediately sprung into action. Some wiped off Willow's face, some held her hands, and a few helped me tend to the baby. Willow's mother made it right as we wrapped him up, and she burst into tears when we handed him to her. She held him tightly, then turned and gave him to Willow, and sat down beside her.

All in all, I rated the experience two out of ten stars. Willow was a mess, crying off and on, especially when she looked at her son, and she cried even harder when Forrest showed up. He cried, too. He stepped on my foot as he pushed past me, and he told Willow she was amazing. I stared up at him with pure annoyance because he was a terrible birthing partner and a minute ago, she was telling me how annoying he was.

At least he was here.

Part of me felt sick over having to do this alone, and the other part reminded me I'd willingly climbed on top of Eric and not gotten off. Well, I had gotten off. Multiple times.

Look where that had gotten me.

I finally left when Harrison showed up. He held his grandson for a moment, announced he was proud of Willow, and then he and I went to go walk along the lake. I waited until we were far enough away from everyone to look up at him, and he stayed silent until I spoke. I felt terrible for being in a crappy mood the day of my nephew's birth, but I couldn't help it.

It was like all my fears were coming true right before me.

"Are you disappointed with how this all turned out? With me?"

I wait for his answer, and my whole world depends on it. If he tells me yes, that his not-so-secret daughter in Amity is an epic failure, then I don't know what I'll do. At times, I felt like I was still stuck in the simulation. Reality wasn't feeling so real these days, especially not when my dress fit weird or the skirt crept up a few inches.

"Why on Earth would I be disappointed in you? If I'm disappointed in anyone, it's myself. I worked with Jeremy for months. Trained the fucker how to strategize for battle. If I'd had any inkling he was going to pull that shit, I'd have shot him myself." Harrison nudges me with his arm, and he smiles. "How many can say they went to Dauntless, married their leader, got to live their best life, survived death, and now get to hang out with me? Because I can only think of one person who can say even a third of that, and it's you."

The smile I eek out is forced.

"I'll be nineteen when I give birth. My husband, who I'm pretty sure I'm still married to, isn't even here. He doesn't even know. And now I live at home, with you and mom."

"You can move if you want. I thought you liked living at home," Harrison pretends to look insulted, but he's not. "And Eric knows. He's losing his fucking shit that he can't get to you. Arlene is considering putting something in his coffee to make him sleep for more than a few hours."

"You've talked to him?" I stare up at Harrison, and he shrugs like it's not that impressive. "Harrison! When?!"

"Daily. He calls all the time. New day, same story. It wasn't his fault, he didn't know about Jeremy, he was in the middle of killing him when I got there. He says he was never taking you to Jeanine. He's sort of…gone off the rails a bit. He's asked to come see you, but I don't think that's smart for anyone right now." He glances down, and I cross my arms over my chest, trying to downplay looking at all pregnant. "I put a lot of faith in that guy. I watched him fall for you over and over. I watched him sit in his office, typing up your name in the database, trying to figure out if you were really eighteen. I was there the day he first said your name. Told Jason and Rylan he was going to have lunch with you. The day he decided you were coming to Dauntless. I don't know where it went wrong."

"It went wrong when I asked him if he would ever love me," I stop in my tracks, and I shake my head. "I just thought maybe he would someday. It was a stupid question and I thought if I tried hard enough, he would."

"Oh, he loved you. He was head over heels in love with you. He just didn't know it because no one has ever loved him. Ashley was infatuated with him, but she didn't love him. He wouldn't know love if you smacked him in the face with it." Harrison sighs, and he kicks a rock with his boot. "Eric is too smart for his own good. That's the real problem. He loved you, but he couldn't figure out why he did and he was spending his time trying to figure that out."

"Isn't that bad? Or am I just sort of an unlovable person?" I watch the rock land in the water, sinking below the surface.

"You're hardly unlovable. Don't blame yourself. You think anyone ever said they loved Eric? I probably should have put a stop to all of it before he married you but, I guess I was hoping you'd both end up happy. He seemed happy."

"I thought he was."

I kick my own rock, not as far as Harrison did, and it only goes a few feet.

We walk around the rest of the lake in silence, and not once does his phone ring.

Andy marries a girl named Andrea.

I sit by Kerrie, watching Andy recite the same vows everyone in Amity did, and his flower crown slips every time he jerks his head in excitement. It's obvious he adores Andrea, and their whirlwind courtship is proof of that.

"Are you relieved?" Kerrie whispers, but it's pretty close to her normal voice.

I nod, having told her all about Andy and how he'd been showing up daily, until one day he didn't. Then I saw him with Andrea, looking like a lovesick puppy, and everything made sense. Andrea is sweet. Nice. Tall. They have the same color hair, and the same love for cutting snowflakes out of paper and admiring their unique designs.

"Yeah, I didn't want to marry him. I don't think I could marry him. I'm pretty sure Eric won't sign off on any divorce papers," I whisper back, and Kerrie laughs. It's light, like a fairy giggling in the garden. My father throws her a happy grin, and a few rows ahead, my mother turns around.

I wave, and she waves back, then resumes making Zander stay seated. He turns around to make a face, and he keeps it that way until my mother insists he behave.

"Is he handsome?" Kerrie asks, and I decide I like her.

"Who Eric? Yeah, he's really handsome. He might be a jerk, but he's still hot."

She laughs again, softly, right as Andy kisses Andrea. It's drowned out in a sea of clapping, and I have to say, this is the dullest wedding I've ever attended.

It doesn't get any better.

Rather than cake, Andy and Andrea have a display of fruit, tall and elegant and completely disappointing tasting.

In an unfortunate turn of events, the weather worsens, and Wesley discovers poetry.

In a further unfortunate turn of events, I am often the only one home, so I am the person he reads the poetry to. It's not his own, not yet at least, and on the most dismal day of my life thus far, he goes around answering me with _nevermore_ , no matter what I ask.

I eventually throw the book at his head, and I hotly inform him I hope a raven pecks him to death the next time he goes for a walk.

On Monday, it pours off and on.

The weather continues to match my mood. My impatience with living in Amity has returned full force, and it's made worse by the pregnancy. I loathe the way everything fits weird, except for the looser, oversized dresses. They work just fine, but I hate how it feels like I'm being strangled from the inside out.

I hate a lot of other things, too. The nosey, yet, kind stares. The offers of help, like I can't walk a few houses down without assistance, or go run ten miles. Not that I ever ran ten miles before, but someone gently tells me it's okay to sit on the couch and read a book, and I have the urge to run and never come back.

I hate the feeling of being trapped, the weight of being a burden to my mother and Harrison, and the dull monotony of waking up every time Carole's chickens get loose.

I hate the way my stomach still hurts, along with my chest, and my eyes burn when I think of Eric. I think about him a lot, often at night, when my pillow is a poor substitute for him and the bed is too large.

Sometimes, I press my luck by slipping outside and wandering around.

There are no cameras anymore, and our guards are kind and cheerful. They accept bribes of freshly baked muffins or cookies, and they promise not to tell on me. At least, Jerry does. The others might tell Harrison, but they are usually too occupied with stuffing their faces to tell me not to go into the woods.

I wait until the rain lets up, and I take a cue out of Wesley's book of depressing poems and head into the woods. They are dark and dreary, and I definitely feel weak and weary. I keep close to the tree line, where most of the moonlight falls, but I get a little daring when I reach the opening where Evelyn had hosted her army. There is nothing here now, and in the middle of the night, it feels like walking on haunted land. I go further, spurred on by nothing more than a reckless attitude and a desire to get the fuck out of Amity, until I realize I've gone too far.

Halfway through my trek, I begin to panic.

My nightgown tangles around my legs, and Hank's sweater does little to ward off the chill. I retrace my steps as I walk back, and I head into the woods while pretending I know exactly where I'm going. The forest has long been my home, but now it laughs at me, pulling me in deeper and deeper, and when a tree branch cracks behind me, I know I've made a terrible mistake.

Ready to pass out from pure fear, I whirl around, and right into the ghost of the woods.

"What the fuck are you doing out here? It's almost two in the morning."

Eric catches me before I can stop myself, and I stare in total disbelief. Despite our last time together being the day when he touched my neck and announced he'd inject me himself, I can't help but bask in the relief at seeing him alive. He's real; solid and safe, warm and dressed in a thick coat. He immediately takes it off to drape over me and he scowls down at me in the dark.

"Everly, it's twenty-six degrees out."

I don't answer him. I stare at his face, still sharp and angular, and his cheekbones are more pronounced than I remember.

"Why are you in the woods?" I look up at him, and my cheeks are so cold I can feel them cracking.

"Why are you in the woods?" He shoots right back, and he looks awful.

He's still Eric. The level of his intimidation hasn't lessened even at the late hour, but in the dark, his skin is paler than normal. He looks as exhausted as I feel, and his eyes are dull. His hair is longer, somewhat unkempt, but still brushed to the side. The jacket isn't his uniform, but a heavy one I've never seen. He chews on his cheek while he waits for my answer, but I'm waiting for his.

His presence is concerning, if not suspicious.

"Everly?"

I shrug, having every right to be wandering around the forest if that's how I wanted to die. "I went for a walk. I couldn't sleep."

"So you came out here?" Eric's fingers are still on my shoulders, and I lean back to move away from him. I'm horrified to admit I want to hug him, and I nearly cry at the thought of pressing my face into his throat and falling asleep. I want to beg him to take me home, though I'd be an absolute moron to even dream such a thing. "Everly, are you…does anyone know you're out here?

I shrug again.

He doesn't like this, but neither do I. How did we go from sharing his last name and a point card, to standing in the woods while the rain threatened, unable to grasp onto each other like we wanted.

"Go home. You don't need to be out here. You should be –"

"Were you going to kill me? Back in Erudite?" I ask before he can stop me, and I take a step back away from him. "I thought I was your wife. I thought you said you'd keep me safe."

I stare up at him, his eyes glassy in the pale moonlight, and he stares down at me. His whole expression tightens, and I feel his exhale vibrate through me.

"You are my wife. I did promise you I'd keep you safe, and I meant it. I didn't know Jeremy had you. He called and told me he'd found someone, and he wanted to show Jeanine and me. I only went because he said they were from the factionless. When I saw it was you –"

"You acted like you didn't even know me!" I interrupt him darkly, and to my dismay, he nods. His posture is severe, defensive at my questioning. "Why! Why didn't you tell her I was—"

"She knew who you were. My best chance at getting you out alive was to pretend I was okay with him turning you in. I was going to tell Jeanine the serum didn't work and get you out the second I could. Jeremy wanted revenge because I wanted him prosecuted for helping Evelyn. I found out he plays all sides. He's got a few factionless friends he gets information from. I told him I was cutting him from the leadership program, and he tried to get ahead by turning you in to Jeanine. He thought it would secure a spot for him." Eric pauses, and his grip on me tightens. "I asked Harrison to bring you back. I didn't want you to leave. I would have killed them all for you. I did. I killed them both. Max had to vouch for me since I was the last one to enter the office and my card was recorded…"

He stops talking, and he glances down again, this time with wide eyes.

"None of that matters. I've been trying to find you. Trying to find a way to you. Arlene told me you were…you're…"

"I'm fine," I shake my head, not wanting to confess anything out loud. I do, because his stare grows intense enough that I flinch. "I'm not really enjoying it. Half the time my stomach hurts and everyone in Amity is annoying. My friend got married and I wanted cake and there was none. They had a fruit tower instead."

"A fruit tower?"

Eric blinks, and I'm reminded of when I told him I was trying to find a missing chicken.

"How are Jason and Rylan? Do they know I'm alive?" I step forward, and he steps closer too. It's unconscious on both our parts. I'd long been the only one he let get close, and he'd been the only one I wanted close. Before I can stop myself, I reach up to touch the collar of Eric's shirt, desperate to make sure he is real.

He is. His skin is warm, but quickly turning cold in the freezing air.

"I miss them," I touch his neck on the same spot he touched mine, and he winces.

"They know you're alive. Jason and Meghan have been devastated since you haven't returned, and Rylan has sunk into a deep depression. He asked to take some time off to process his loss. Max told him to knock it off, that bereavement time is for a death in the family, and Rylan stormed out. He's been MIA ever since. Christina blames me." Eric pulls me closer, and my boots hit his. One of his hands moves to brush my hair off my face, and the other moves to my lower back. "Everly?"

"Tell them I said hi. I miss everyone a lot."

"Are you happy?" Eric stares, his eyes piercing and his lips threatening to sneer, and I know he's remembering he's mad. "You hated Amity before. Why are you living here now? Is it because of Harrison? Or…. your brother? Do you miss…"

He stops, and his unspoken question is do I miss him.

I want to tell him yes.

I know I should tell him no.

I don't say anything.

His uncomfortableness with my silence is on full display, and he finally shrugs. The piercing above his eyebrow moves, and when I don't say anything, he nods and looks above me.

"Okay."

"It was good to see you, Eric." I crane my head up to look at him, and I move to take his jacket off. "You can have this back. I should get home. I'm pretty tired now."

"Why are you doing this?" He hisses. He's always had the upper hand, but now I do. I can see the desperation on his face, and the visible agony of us being apart. I know right then he never planned to turn me in, but things have spiraled so far out of control, he can't fix them.

"I'm not doing anything," I can't look away from him, and he sneers at me.

"Why?" Eric hisses, and I have the feeling I might actually get kidnapped this time. "I never meant for you to get hurt. I've spent weeks wondering if you were alive. It took Harrison forever to tell me you were okay and you weren't coming back. It's not even his decision. You aren't even a part of the Amity faction according to the paperwork you signed."

"I'll sign some new ones. You and I both know I can't go back. Not after…not after you couldn't tell me you loved me. Not when you let me get close only so I could die."

He is silent.

His jaw tenses, angry and unhappy, and he stares me down. It's not at all a good sight, but it's honest. For someone who spent all his time so in control of his persona, this is the most open I've seen him. Desperate and low, and clearly not doing well.

"I was going to tell you," Eric pauses, and his words are thick. "once I got you back to Dauntless. I was going to have Arlene make sure you were okay. I got you… you know what, here. You do what you want with it. Let me know when my child is born. There's not a chance in hell I'll let him live in Amity, Everly Coulter."

In a moment of childish rage, perhaps all he knows, he shoves something at me. He turns once he's sure it's in my hands. He takes off in the opposite direction, jacketless, and it dawns on me that he's walked here from Dauntless. He's probably been walking for hours, and I call out his name in pure horror that he's about to walk back.

"Eric, wait!"

He ignores me.

I fumble with the decision to open the box or wait until I'm home. It's small, square and warm from being in his pocket, and pretty. I rip it open quickly, and I'm thrown off by my name written on the inside. It's nearly impossible to make out the black lettering, but it's hard to miss the ring inside. It sits on a black cushion, large and ornate, and prettier than anything I've ever seen.

It was meant for me.

He had bought a ring after all. I wonder if he was planning on giving it to me at the New Year's party, or he'd bought it in an attempt to lure me back. The corners of the box are worn, like he's been carrying it for a while, and I nearly throw up when he gets far enough away I can barely see him.

"Eric, stop! Stop! Come back!"

I take off after him, ignoring the sharp gust of wind and the howl of the trees, and I realize he's already back in the woods.

I follow right after him, into pure and total darkness.

In the end, my decision making skills are questionable.

I chalk it up to lifelong inexperience. Eighteen, almost nineteen years, hadn't been enough time to prepare me for much. Eric had been everything to me. He'd shown me an entire world past Amity, and it was only the beginning. There was so much I didn't know and hadn't done, and right now, I make the sudden decision to take control of my own life for good.

It's why I keep going when there is a loud bang, and I recognize the sound as gunfire. It echoes through the trees, and I wait for someone to say something. There is no other sound, not a scream or a plea for help, and I panic.

Eric can't be that far ahead of me.

I rush through the trees quickly, ignoring the ache in my side and the way the nightgown gets caught on a branch. I push through low hanging leaves, a section so dark I could be going any which way, and the forest floor gives beneath me.

My whole life flashes before my eyes. I had a life in Amity, a second life in Dauntless, another life once I returned to Amity, and a fourth life, one that mocks me when I slide down the sharp drop of the ravine, and land at the feet of an unconscious Eric.

"No! No! No! Eric!"

All around me, the forest is alive. There is the sound of footsteps, the rustling of trees, and the spark of rain starting up again. It smells like damp Earth and pure fear. I scramble to my feet, and I make it over to Eric as the storm picks up.

"Eric, say something!"

Splayed out like some sort of unconquerable warrior, he lies unmoving. His shirt looks wet now, maybe from the few drops of rain, or maybe from the oozing trail of blood, and his eyes are shut. He is still as I press my fingers to his neck, and I let out a stream of expletives when I find his pulse. It's fine. Strong and steady, but he's been shot, and it was enough to knock him down.

I glance around quickly and my heart sinks when I realize I can't move him. There's no way I'd get both of us back up the incline, and there's not a chance in hell I can leave him here. He finally groans when I touch his side, putting pressure on the wound, and he mumbles something that sounds a lot like my name.

"Shit, shit, shit. Hold on. I'm going to call…I'm going to call…."

I fumble with the phone, and it's even harder when my hands streak his blood across the screen. I rejoice at having shoved it in Hank's sweater, but it's barely hanging on with a dying battery. My first call is to Harrison. I pray over and over for him to answer, but for once, he must be sound asleep. I try Jerry next. Carole. Forrest. Anyone who I know has one of the black market phones gifted by Harrison. No one answers, and the rain picks up enough that it sticks to the screen on my phone.

"No, okay just give me a second. I can fix this."

I swipe through a list of names, and my hands shake.

Maybe it wasn't my job to fix this. Maybe this was the end for Eric. Maybe his punishment for working for Jeanine was death at the bottom of a ravine, in the rain, while I sat beside him, trying to save him.

It couldn't be.

It felt so dishonorable, so unlike him. If Eric was going to die, he wanted guts and glory. Not a gunshot wound from someone who took off running into the woods and a wife who can't use her own phone.

I call Jason.

Rylan.

Meghan. I'm hopeful because hers rings the longest, but it eventually goes to a quiet voicemail, brightly asking me to call back later.

Arlene.

My cheeks are really wet when she doesn't answer, and I can't tell if it's from the rain or from Eric, still not awake. Every so often, he shifts. His fingers tense and flex, or he mumbles a word I can't make out. He sounds better, consciousness slowly coming to him, but he still doesn't move.

The phone rings again, the sound tiny in my ears, and I've all but given up when Daniel's voice greets me. His hello is cheerful given the late hour, and he asks who is calling. For a second, I can't answer him. I move closer to Eric, taking his hand in mine, and I nearly drop it when he groans.

"It's…it's Everly. Daniel, I need your help!"

How I say this is beyond me.

"Someone shot Eric! He fell down this ravine in the woods. It's just past the clearing. It's really dark and someone shot him and I don't think I can get him back up the hill. It's too far and it's raining and I'm all alone."

"Everly? What? Where are you?" Daniel's panic is immediate but expected. He immediately jumps into action, barking at someone to call…someone. Some connection he has, and then someone else. I hear a lot of talking, a lot of yelling, and a door slam shut.

"In the woods. I went for a walk and I ran into Eric and I haven't seen him in weeks because….because Jeremy took me to Jeanine and they were going to test me and they did and Eric tried to stop them but it didn't work and Harrison showed up and took me to Amity, and I don't…I don't know why Eric isn't moving."

My knowledge of guns is limited to what Eric had shown me. I knew how to shoot one, and I knew how to load one. I dimly remember to check if he has one on him, and to my horror, he's unarmed.

"Everly, what on Earth. I don't…how do I find you? I'm heading that way now."

"You have to hurry. It's really dark," I plead, knowing full well Daniel has absolutely no control over how dark it is or how long it will take him to get here. He asks me a few more questions, and I tearfully tell him there are no cameras out here. I try to explain where I am, but it feels impossible.

Out here, in the darkest part of the woods, down a sharp cliff, watching Eric's shirt dampen with his own blood. The phone beeps in my ear to alert me it's dying. I try to tell Daniel to hurry. I tell him I think there's someone in the woods, and I think they're coming back this way.

He yells my name right as the phone dies, and the figure returns to make sure Eric is dead. I collapse beside Eric, realizing with great horror, that this is it.

This is how it ends.

I accept it willingly.


	27. Life and Death

The moon shifts.

It hangs just overhead, pouring moonlight over the treetops.

It bathes the figure in a pearly light, illuminating his face enough for me to observe angelic features matched with an evil sneer, and highlights his dark clothes. Black shirt, black pants, black boots. There is no doubt he's from Dauntless, and the gun in his hand is all the more confirmation of this theory.

He exudes not total fearlessness as he steps closer, but phony arrogance.

His eyes move from me to Eric, and he swallows with the barest hint of uncertainty.

"Is he dead?"

I stare up at his face while pressing my fingers harder against Eric's side. The blood is sticky and wet. I feel Eric moving, sucking in sharp, uneven breaths. His breathing is labored, more likely from shock or perhaps hitting his head, and shallow.

He struggles to fight it.

I can feel the determination, buried deep inside him, as he tries to wake up. I feel it as my palms press flat over his shirt and he groans.

After all, somewhere in Dauntless, on a jagged wall lit up by faint lighting, someone had etched their motto into the walls, reminding everyone that Dauntless never gave up.

"I said, is he dead?"

The man moves closer, further into the moonlight, and his gaze is fixed on Eric. He knows him. I can see it in the way his mouth turns down and his eyebrows knit inward. His hair is messy, wet with rain and violence, and the gun in his hand is the same one all the soldiers carried.

The same one I'd fired.

"Why did you shoot him?" I sink against Eric before I can stop myself, and the guilt of what's happened is so immense I can't stand up.

Not too long ago, I'd stood in the woods talking to him. He'd asked if I'd missed him, and I hadn't been honest.

I did miss him.

I missed every single thing about him.

I missed the slow way he'd let me get to know him, and the fast way he'd pulled me down into his world. I missed the few nights we'd spent in his apartment, the brief drop into Dauntless, and the feeling of being with just him. He had been safe, but not safe, and he was a danger I wanted.

"Why?" I shift again, doing my best to stop him from bleeding. I have some medical knowledge from listening to my mother, but this is far beyond her scope of expertise. It might be beyond Arlene's scope of expertise.

I refuse to let him die here.

"Why? Tell me why you did it!"

My tone turns hysteric. I press my palm harder against Eric's side, screwing my eyes shut at the feeling of damp fabric. Not that long ago, I'd pressed my hands to his chest for other reasons. I'd curled against him to go to sleep, and I'd touched him while he dressed or undressed. This is far different, and I'd give anything to go back in time, even for just a moment.

"I don't owe you an explanation," the next villain in my life pauses. He's far more confident now, and he shrugs casually, but his posture tells me he's worried. "Tell me if he's dead or if I need to shoot him again."

"Did he attack you?" I peer up at his face, and his expression suddenly mirrors one of Eric's most arrogant sneers.

I wait for him to answer.

He doesn't.

He glares at me, dark and annoyed.

"I said, IS. HE. DEAD?"

"Yes." I lie without hesitation, knowing it was half the truth. Eric certainly isn't doing great, but he's still breathing. He's still moving, his fingers tensing or his head moving slightly, and it's enough hope for me to hold onto.

"Good. He had it coming. He's been fucking around for long enough. I've been waiting for the opportunity to move up and every time I thought it was happening, someone else stepped in. Jeremy. Tris. Four. You." He points at me, and his hatred is quick. "I went through the Dauntless initiation. I did everything right. And he just brought you there without a care in the world. Ashley was right about you."

"Ashley?" I stare up at his face, still confused as ever. I haven't met him before, nor do I have any idea what he's talking about. "You know Ashley?"

"Of course, I know her. She was in Dauntless enough. She told me about Eric screwing her over. She told me how Erudite is struggling and it's all your fault. If you had never started anything with him, things would be fine. But this is fine, too. Once it's announced Eric is dead, Dauntless will need a new leader, and trust me when I say no one is gunning for the job right now. His own friends aren't even interested in running the place."

"So you decided you'd kill him? What is that gonna do? They'll trace it back to you," I keep talking, stalling for time.

Moments ago, I'd willingly accepted I was going to die. There was no kind way to put it, and no rosy view to look at. I was in the middle of the woods, with a man who'd shot Eric, and I was alone. My emotions swung from being fine with everything ending, to the strange kick in my stomach, subtly telling me it wasn't going to end like this.

"Why not…why not get him kicked out?" I ask the man in front of me. He's still a careful distance away, and I hope he doesn't come any closer. I need more than a few minutes. My phone had died seconds ago, and while it is unlikely anyone will ever get here before this man kills me, I have to try. "Was killing him the best option?"

"Yeah, and unfortunately, it looks like I have to kill you, too." He keeps talking, but he doesn't make any move to shoot me. He stands there as the rain picks up slightly, and his lips press together. His gaze skirts over me, and his eyes widen. "Fuck, she didn't tell me you were pregnant."

"Who are you?" I ask without looking away, and Eric moves again. It's so slight it would be impossible to see unless you were holding onto him, but I am. He turns his head slightly, and his eyes try to open. "You don't have to kill me. I won't tell anyone what you did. Eric already tried to kill me. I won't say anything, I promise."

"That's a fun story. Really," he answers shortly. "Did he just move? I swear he just moved."

"No, I think he hit his head when he fell. He hasn't moved since I found him." I rise up on my knees, ignoring the sick feeling of the damp ground and the sharp rocks. The pain is immediate, but I cling onto the realness of it. "We could just leave. No one will find him. I swear, no one comes out here."

"Look, even if Eric did try to kill you, I can't trust you any farther than I can throw you. You run home and tell everyone I was out here, and suddenly I've got the entire faction hunting me down. You'll have to come with me." He's stressed now. I can see it on his face, and the way his brow wrinkles as he stomps over. He pauses only to throw a quick look at Eric, and his scowl intensifies. "Hurry up. Leave him here. I'll come back later."

"Where are we going?" I move slowly, and Eric's eyes open again. They lock on mine, and for a second, there's a moment of comprehension. My hopes soars, then crashes down when he shuts them and slides back into nothingness.

"I don't know yet. Just get up!" The man grows frantic, and eventually he grabs me by the arm. "I have a truck stored not far away from here. I followed his dumb ass all the way from Dauntless. Maybe…maybe Max can deal with you."

"Sounds like a great plan," I retort, pulling my arm away from his. "And what are you going to tell him? That I shot Eric?"

"Yeah, why not? Scorned lover, taken to another faction and forced to stay there. I'll say I followed Eric to see you, and you shot him after you guys got in some argument. He won't question it."

"Oh no, it sounds like a fool proof alibi. Everyone in Amity has a gun." I would roll my eyes, but he pulls me away, and I shove him back. "Don't touch me. I'll go with you, but don't touch me."

He eyes me up and down. I can see him trying to size up the situation, and given my damp nightgown and sweater, he ultimately decides the risk of me killing him is minimal at best.

"You run, I kill you. Got it?" he threatens, and I shrug. "Come on."

"Fine." At this point, death isn't the threat he thinks it is. I don't think my life could get much worse than this. "What's your name?" I glare at him, and I glance back at Eric. He's still in the same spot, and his chest is still. "At least tell me so I know what to call you."

The man's groan of impatience isn't that I'm not going with him, but that his plans have been interrupted, and me witnessing him out here is an inconvenience he doesn't need.

"I said, come on. We have to get back up there." He points to the top of the ravine, and when he's sure I'm walking with him, he relaxes. "Your name is Everly. I know that much."

"Yeah, nice to meet you," I answer him rudely, and he throws me a condescending glare. "Are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. My name's Peter. Now move. The faster we get out of here, the faster I can tell Max you killed Eric. Because you did. You should have just accepted him back into your life. It was killing him you weren't in Dauntless and it would kill him to go to Amity to be with you."

"I don't think he wanted either of those options," I throw him a quick glance, meaning not a single thing I'm saying. I want him to keep talking, since the more he talked, the more he told me. But the more he told me, the more I was panicking. My hands felt odd, weightless almost, and it was hard to look right at him.

I try and calm myself down by breathing slowly, and I blurt out the next question that pops into my mind.

"Hey, do you know Four? Are you guys friends?"

Peter laughs.

He snickers beside me, like I've told him the most hilarious joke in the world.

"Oh, we're great friends. Such good friends that I had him turn off the cameras for me when I left Dauntless." Peter shoves me forward, and I pause as the incline begins. "You and he were friends, weren't you? I heard he was part of some undercover mission. He said…"

His pause makes me turn to look at him.

Behind him, the forest spans dark and wide, endless and impossible. The wind scrapes through, between the branches and over the leaves, and hits my skin. I solemnly realize there is absolutely no way anyone will find us out here, let alone save me.

The remaining minutes of my life tick away, one by one.

"He said he warned you about Eric. More than once. I guess you should have listened."

I nod, and behind Peter, the forest falls silent.

By the time I reach the flattest part of the incline, I'm so tired I can't think straight.

It is steep in a lot of parts, slippery if you should fall down it, but not impossible to climb up. It would have been easier were I not exhausted but Peter doesn't care. He keeps pushing me on, refusing to stop for anything, not even when his foot slips and he stumbles.

We reach the top after ages. The rain lets up momentarily, but I'm freezing. My fingers hurt, my teeth are chattering, and the sweater feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. I pause to collect my thoughts, thinking maybe I could make a run for it and potentially lose Peter in the thick maze of trees.

Then I remember he has a gun and I do not.

"Why are you stopping? We're almost there. Keep moving."

"Why are you hurrying? He's dead," I point out, thinking if he hadn't been before, he probably is now. "You won. You can wait a few minutes. I'm tired."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot we were operating on your schedule," Peter snaps. "Keep walking."

Behind him, the sky seems to be lightening. I don't know what time it is, and it's still plenty dark, but it feels like hours have passed since Eric announced it was two.

"I just…I need…"

"You need what? A break? I thought you wanted to live in Dauntless? I thought you were strong. I thought you picked the wrong faction and Eric brought you to the right one?" He taunts me in a sing-song voice, and his mockery makes me dislike him all the more. I have the sudden feeling that had I stayed in Dauntless, he surely would have come for me there. "I thought you were married to the biggest, baddest, scariest man in all of Dauntless. I thought he –"

I turn slightly, and when we lock eyes, I push him backward.

I have no clue where the idea comes from, but I shove him as hard as I possibly can with the little energy I have left. It's not much, but it's enough to force him to stumble, and his foot catches on something I can't see.

"Fuck!"

He falls backward gracelessly. I don't move from the edge, but I watch him tumble down the hill we'd climbed up, and his head smacks into almost everything. He hits rocks, tree stumps, branches, pinecones. When he stops, somewhere in the middle, I see him land at an odd angle. There's a snap of something that sounds an awful lot like his neck or his leg, then silence.

Total deafening silence.

"Oh fuck." I blurt out to no one, and I wait to see if he moves.

He doesn't.

I peer down over the edge, going as close as I dare. The darkness is like a black hole, and it takes my eyes a minute to adjust. Peter lies on the ground, slumped to the side and quiet. I hold my breath while I stare down at him, and when I'm sure he's not getting back up, I take a few steps back. I hit the ground before I can catch myself. My hands sink into wet earth, and when I try to breathe normally, it's impossible.

The panic is overwhelming.

It roots itself deeply, so deeply it's hard to move, and I can't stop the tears. I let myself have this moment of grief, of pure and total terror, of total and all-consuming desperation at murdering someone. I think of all the things that have happened, all the attempts on my life, all the times I had made choices I believed were right, all of that leading up until now. I never thought in a million years it would come to this: Eric, the only person I'd ever loved, dead in the middle of the woods while I walked away with the man who shot him.

But it did.

I still struggle to accept it. I had willingly welcomed my impending death, but I was being selfish. I was thinking only of me, and not my child. He or she had done nothing wrong, nothing to deserve being murdered by a psycho hell-bent on revenge, and I have to change this. I have to pull myself up, gather my thoughts, and get the fuck out of the woods.

It's harder than it sounds.

I think of Eric, still at the bottom of the ravine, unmoving.

Of our child, a thought so painful it hurts.

Of the man I'd just pushed to his death, willing to kill me to cover up what he did to Eric.

I'm not so sure I can get up. I wipe at my eyes, wondering if this is why I wouldn't have made it in Dauntless. Were the soldiers trained for this? Was death just a routine, everyday occurrence holding no real meaning? How did they make the snap decision to save themselves or someone else? Did they ever go home and reel over their actions, thinking they'd made a mistake or worse, did they enjoy their mistake?

The other thoughts follow, faster and more important. There is a chance Eric could make it. There is a chance he's not dead, or he won't bleed to death before I can get help. The memory of him splayed out on the ground is paralyzing, but so is the thought of never seeing him again.

Never slipping my hand through his.

Never hearing him confess anything else, even if it was the truth about what had happened in Erudite.

I shake my head in a vain attempt to clear my thoughts. I feel crazy, but it works. When the fear subsides, the panic sucks back like one of the small waves at the lakeshore. I wipe my eyes and realize I have to move on. I have to get back to Amity. I need to wake up Harrison and tell him what happened. If there is a chance at all Eric is alive, it's probably gone now, but at the very least, maybe Harrison can go try to find him. He'll have to tell Dauntless what happened. I feel ill thinking about Eric in such a way, but I'm so tired, I can barely see straight.

Which is why I miss the grunt coming from a few feet away.

I realize all too late that sitting down might have just cost me my life. By the time I scramble to my feet, Peter stands before me, barely alive.

He looks horrific. He's grimy and bloody, covered with the forest and mud and the visible proof of his fall. He ambles slowly, disoriented but determined, and his mouth is bleeding. He must have mustered up enough energy to come up the hill looking for me, and now he's going to make sure I don't tell anyone about him.

"You fucking bitch. You really thought you could kill me?"

He fumbles for the gun, dark and metallic, and I take off before he can shoot me.

"No, no, no."

I run as fast as I can. I have the advantage of having grown up here. It might be hard to see in the dark, and the forest is full of obstacles, but I'm more adept than he is. Peter swears, loud and furious as he drags himself through the woods, and he chants my name over and over. The agony is just as exhausting, maybe more so than the running. My feet slip over slick mud, I catch my elbow on the finger like spread of a branch, and I gasp when the cold air of sloping ground hits my face.

After a few minutes, a gunshot explodes in the air, and it's expected. Even still, my heart speeds up at the sound, beating so fast it feels like it might explode, especially when I come to a dead end.

In the darkness, I have taken a wrong turn.

I might have been better at running through the woods, but I was turned around. I'd led him right to the base of a cliff, one ascending so high there's no way I can climb it. In the distance, there is the low groan of a train passing through, and the whistle to alert anyone near the tracks to clear out. If I could get to it, there was a chance I could jump on and get away.

Unfortunately for me, the cliff is too sharp. It's mostly rocks and dirt, and it would prove impossible to climb. My other option is trying to get across the river, dark and deep, rushing violently past, and no doubt freezing. My heart sinks when I realize I have no choice but to go back in the direction I came.

"You dumb ass. I thought you lived here," Peter wheezes, and he comes at me like something from my nightmares. He's a reanimated corpse, dripping with every step he takes. He aims the gun at me, swaying on his feet, and he laughs darkly. "You are so stupid. You don't even know how to get back home. The Dome is like, five minutes from here. There's no way you would have lasted in any faction, let alone Dauntless."

I watch him move to pull the trigger, and I shut my eyes.

I welcome whatever is about to happen because I absolutely have nothing left to give and no way to escape.

Death doesn't come.

The seconds stretch on endlessly, until his scream of fury is so loud my eyes fly open. I'm greeted with the sight of Peter collapsing and the gun flying out of his grasp. It lands just to the side, and there behind him, looking absolutely no better, is Eric.

He stares at me with parted lips, and his hands are bloody. It takes me a few seconds to realize he's hit Peter in the head with a branch, hard enough to knock him out. He and I stare at each other wordlessly, and he reaches for the gun when I blink.

"I never liked you."

He shoots Peter once, right through the temple, then tosses the gun to the side. He heads right toward me, his hair slick and wet, his skin a ghostly shade of white, and his walk is off. He's clearly in pain, and he stumbles when his bloodied hands find my face.

"Everly, are you…are you alright? Did he shoot you?"

His voice is strained. It's quiet and woozy, and my hands fly up to press to his cheeks. He's freezing, and I slide my hands behind his neck to pull him closer. His thumb touches my cheek, and he swallows thickly, visibly struggling to stay upright.

"No! Eric, are you okay? Say you're okay. We can walk back. It's not much farther. My mom…my mom can help you. She can fix this. Eric!"

His eyes start to close. His fingers move, skimming away like an anguished goodbye, and he shakes his head.

"Everly…"

It's the last thing I hear.

He collapses gracelessly as the very last bit of energy he has dies out. He takes me down with him, and having no strength to move, I stay there. His fingers dig into my skin. His head stays on my chest, and I thread my fingers into his hair as tightly as I can. The heartbreak is excruciating when he doesn't say my name again, nor does he lift up his head. I cling to him tighter, begging him to hang on. If he can rest for a minute, maybe we can walk out of here. Maybe I can get him upright and make it to the Dome before he collapses again.

Eventually, his breathing turns slow and uneven, and his grip loosens. I say his name over and over, refusing to let go.

Even when everyone shows up.

The woods come alive as a multitude rushes forward. Members of Amity, members of Erudite, members of Dauntless. I see Daniel sprinting our way, his scrubs dark and covered in rain drops, and his face white with panic. I see Jason, screaming my name, followed by a patrol squad, including Karl and Jake and Tori, yelling that I'm over here. I see Daniel's staff, Camille and several others, carrying bags of medical equipment, hurrying toward me with determined stares. I see May, with Jerry hot on her heels, instructing everyone to follow her. There is chaos as they all try to reach us first, competing only with each other.

The sky changes quickly.

It lightens as Daniel and Hank and Harrison reach me first. They yell my name, over and over, and I can't answer anyone. Their words are fuzzy, drifting over me, and I'm dimly aware of Daniel grasping onto my hands, desperately coaxing me to let go. His hands are warm, and he pries me away from Eric, touching my face and cheeks, trying to get me to answer him.

I can't.

I watch over his shoulder as the sky turns pink, then a brighter pink, and the sun very slowly begins to rise as the moon falls right out of the sky.

"He's almost out of surgery."

Camille waits while I wash my hair.

There might be nothing more mortifying than having a grown woman sit in the bathroom while you take a shower, but she insisted it was a standard procedure. She is very patient but strict with her instructions. I was to wash the dirt and blood out of my hair, wash the rest of the dirt off me, and then she'd help me brush my hair. I refused at first. I didn't even remember the ride over here, or what happened after Daniel pried me away from Eric. All I knew is there were a lot of people upset, and none more so than Daniel.

Hank and Harrison looked distraught as they busied themselves by trying to get me to my feet.

Daniel had nearly collapsed at the sight of his son. Well, actually, he did collapse. He dropped down to make sure I was okay, then stayed to move Eric off me. When I couldn't respond to him saying my name, he forced himself into the clinical doctor he was, and I had to say, he and Camille worked fast. Their staff took up most of the space, while Hank and Harrison made sure I was alive. I finally worked up enough strength to tell them I was okay. To announce Eric had been shot and he wasn't moving.

To please, please, please save him, or at least make him wake up.

My plea to go home fell on deaf ears as they checked for a pulse. Read vitals to each other in clipped, flat voices. I insisted my mother could help, but they all refused. May and Jerry refused. Even Camille refused. She leapt up the minute she could, looked at me like I was insane, and hotly informed everyone I would be seen in Erudite and no one was going to tell her otherwise.

No one tried to fight her on this.

I was taken to Erudite, along with Eric.

Back to the towers of glass panels and high ceilings. Back to the clean, sterile hallways and elegant lighting.

I was whisked through white doors and past a staff looking appropriately stunned at my arrival, and once there, I was quickly examined. Camille did a lot of the talking, and the nurses I saw were nameless, but very friendly. It only took a few minutes for them to decide I needed to stay, though I doubted anyone was going to suggest otherwise. I was given a diagnosis of exhaustion, of something that sounded like hypothermia, though I was no longer cold, and it was hinted I was headed for a possible nervous breakdown.

There was also a suggestion to see someone from their OBGYN department. Right when I was sure I couldn't take much more, I was taken to a room by Camille. She promised she had warm clothes and a soft bed, and I couldn't argue with anything she was saying.

I could barely keep my eyes open. Even now, I sway on my feet as I rinse my hair, sighing at the hot water.

"Is he okay?" I turn the water off, and I squeeze my hair out while I wait for Camille's answer. The bathroom is nice; it's large and spacious, and much more upscale than I would imagine for a hospital bathroom. I open the door to reach for a towel, and Camille is right there, waiting for me.

In my haze of shock, I felt like I imagined a standoff between her and Daniel. Harrison and Hank were still in Amity. They'd agreed to take care of Peter, and Jason refused to leave them. The feud between Dauntless and Amity was temporarily on hold as Jason begged to help, and his patrol quickly followed orders from the Amity army. May and Jerry directed everyone to fan out into the woods, just to make sure no one was out there. In a moment of defeat, Harrison lowly agreed to put the cameras back up and the look on his face told me he felt responsible.

He wasn't.

Not one bit.

I tried to tell him this, but I didn't get the chance. Camille and Daniel were insistent we not spend another second in Amity, and it seemed like everyone agreed this was for the best.

In Erudite, I was out of my element. Daniel was called into surgery for his own son, and Camille was assigned to me. I remember a blur of people rushing by me dressed in different scrubs, and when I asked where they were going, I was gently told everything would be fine.

Now, Camille stands before me, towel drying my hair and eyeing me intently.

"Have you had a physical exam in Amity? A check up? Any sort of prenatal care?"

"I had a check up with a nurse from here. She was with my mom," I volunteer, and the lights in the bathroom are too bright. I shut my eyes, trying to remember the disdain of the woman who'd looked shocked I didn't know how far along I am. "Um, that's it. Where's Eric?"

"Have you had an ultrasound? Bloodwork? Anything?" Camille moves to the front of me, and she steps outside the room. I hear her fumble for something, and I stand still, trying to avoid my own reflection. "Everly?"

"I had bloodwork in Dauntless."

She returns with clothes. I take them from her without question, and she wasn't lying about how soft they are. My answer must have been unsatisfactory to her because she doesn't look very happy.

"I'll help you get dressed and then we'll brush out your hair. Eric is in surgery right now. We had no visual confirmation of the bullet exiting his body. While not fatal, the x-ray showed it lodged near his spine. He is currently undergoing surgery to remove it. If not, there was a chance it would migrate and cause paralysis." She pauses, and her eyes find mine. "He'll be absolutely fine. As soon as Eric is out, he'll go to recovery, then be taken to his own room."

"No one will be there when he wakes up," I point out, woozy at the thought of a bullet having gone right through his skin. "I should go wait. I'm…"

"His mother has been called." Camille's answer is sharp. Her expression tells me she doesn't like this and so does her posture. "I'm sure she's here now."

I blanche at the thought of Blythe being the first person he sees. Even with everything that's happened, he doesn't deserve to open his eyes to her hovering over him.

"I don't think he wants Blythe there when he wakes up," I point out, and I try to think fast. "I should be there. I'm still married to him. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Well, as his wife, if you go down there, you'll be the only one allowed back in recovery." Camille sighs. "I have to be honest with you, Everly. You've been through a lot. My suggestion is you get in bed and sleep. You are both lucky to be alive. Especially, considering God knows how long you sat there with him in the cold."

"It doesn't matter," I stare up at her, and she isn't surprised at all by my protest. "I want to make sure he's okay. Things haven't been good between us. At the very least, let me make sure he's alright."

Camille's expression tenses.

Her eyes flit over to the room, where the bed waits for me to crawl into it and pass out, then back to me.

"Camille…"

"I know what happened. Eric showed up in the middle of one of our surgeries and demanded his father come talk to him. He told Daniel about Erudite and how he never planned to bring you in. He was upset. I …." Camille pauses, and her phone beeps loudly. "He's been here a few times since you were taken back to Amity. As much as I dislike Eric, I believe he was telling the truth. So does his father. They've been talking more than I've ever heard them talk."

"That's good," I clutch the clothes tighter, and Camille steps back. "Is Daniel calling you?"

"You get dressed. I'll answer it."

Camille leaves. She shuts the door behind her, and I'm left with stark white walls and slick marble floors. I stare at myself for a second in the mirror above the sink, noticing I, too, look like the living dead. I immediately look away, and I pull on the clothes Camille brought. I figure I have enough energy left to convince her to take me to Eric and once I'm sure he's okay, I'll lie down.

The thought of his mother being the first person he sees when he wakes up doesn't sit well with me.

It doesn't sit well with Camille, either.

Thirty minutes later, with carefully brushed hair and pajama pants that are too long, I'm taken to Eric's room.

He stays cold for a while.

The clock on the phone Camille pressed into my hands reads seven thirty. I eye it blearily, then set it on the table beside the bed. The room is large and expansive, more like some sort of master bedroom than a hospital room, and cold. It's dark in here, thanks to heavy curtains, and lit up only by the machines beside the bed. The atmosphere isn't as tense as before, but different than anything I'm used to.

Sort of unsure, like Eric might not open his eyes again.

He would.

Daniel promised me.

Not too long ago, I walked into the room where all family members are required to wait, and Blythe was there. She leapt to her feet so fast you would have thought she was waiting for me. The look on her face told me she knew exactly what was going on. Since I was married to Eric, I had a higher precedence over everyone, and I would be the only one allowed to see him in recovery. Blythe clearly knew this, but she was banking on me not showing up. My presence set her off, and she came for me with her eyes flashing as she screamed at me to get lost. She was stopped by security, a faint ghost of the Dauntless soldiers, and they reminded her she needed to behave.

While she stood there loudly hissing I didn't have any right to be here, I was escorted through large swinging doors. One swipe of Camille's badge, several turns and a few rooms later, I got to see Eric.

It wasn't a terrifying sight.

He was asleep, with an IV in his hand and a blanket pulled up over him. He looked oddly vulnerable in this state, having been taken down by someone half his size. I walked over and sat on the side of the bed, watching his chest rise and fall, and I hoped he'd wake up and look at me.

He didn't.

Every so often, one of the nurses checked on him. They checked his vitals, checked his temperature, and said his name to see if he'd respond. There was a white wristband on his wrist, and Camille quietly told me it also had a security alert on it.

Not so much because someone might come for him, but that he'd get up and walk out.

She put a matching one on my wrist. The paper scraped against my skin, but I kept quiet, and focused on Eric.

In the blur of things, while I learned it might take Eric some time to wake up, I also learned Peter was dead. I learned Jason and Rylan were here, in the hospital, but would be returning to Dauntless to announce what was going on. I was told Harrison had been here, briefly, and Hank and my mother would be here at some point during the day.

It felt like chaos.

The attempted murder of the leader of Dauntless wasn't something that could go unnoticed. Even if Dauntless kept quiet about it, too many people were now involved. Amity surely wouldn't feel as secure as it once did, and Candor would realize without any sort of army or protection, they were sitting ducks for the time someone decided to act out their revenge.

Only Abnegation might stay out of it, but when pressed, they might give in to the pressure of needing to know they were safe.

All this swirled around me, flitting around in tiny bits of information, whispered while I waited for Eric to move.

When he still didn't, except for the tensing of his hands and the turning of his head, there were mentions of paperwork, someone asking me to sign something, and a pen shoved into my hands. It felt surreal, like it was happening around me, so I mostly just nodded and said nothing.

I signed everything, not even reading the papers.

When the person from administration left, I sat on the edge of Eric's bed, and one male nurse came by to introduce himself. He smiled, asked my name, then handed me a bag of Eric's things. In it was his shirt, his pants, the heavy boots he had, and a few other belongings. I took it slowly, not sure what I was supposed to do with it, and Camille pried it from my hands and snapped at the nurse to move Eric upstairs.

It felt like it took hours to reach the fourth floor, where I now sit, waiting for Eric to wake up.

He doesn't.

Just like in the woods, he occasionally mumbles something. His eyes fight to open, but the lingering anesthesia is strong. He winces, shoves the covers away from him, then goes right back to sleep.

I finally succumb to my own exhaustion by moving to sit by his side. I sit down carefully, far more comfortable than sitting and staring at him, and I lean over his chest to examine the bandage. The gauze is larger than I expect. It's white but dotted with blood, and the skin above it is slightly red. I gently press my fingers there, noticing it's warm, and only then does Eric mutter my name. I've never been shot before, and I imagine it would be incredibly painful.

I keep my fingers there, and I nearly fall off the bed when he speaks.

"What happened?"

I look up at Eric from my awkward position. His voice is groggy and slow. It's thick with sleep, just like his stare. He blinks a few times, then very carefully reaches up to swat at me. His actions are drunk from the sedation; he misses completely, and winds up settling for grasping onto the ends of my hair.

"Everly…"

"You got shot," I half whisper, afraid to startle him. He eyes me with some major disbelief, and I resist telling him I also thought he was invincible. "We were talking in the woods and you left. I went to find you and someone named Peter shot you. You fell and I found you at the bottom of the ravine. I thought…I thought you were dead. But you weren't. You wound up shooting Peter in the head, then you collapsed."

He squints at me.

He's a strange sight. His hair is a mess, not as straight as he wanted everyone to believe, nor is it at all combed. It falls in his eyes, making him look like someone else entirely.

"Are you drunk, Everly?" He drawls out my name with zero elegance. "Or is this from being in Amity? No one shot me."

"Yes, they did!" I insist, and he throws me a pathetically attempted smirk. "I'm serious. Peter shot you!"

"He wouldn't shoot me," Eric snickers, and he sits up slightly. His eyes widen, and his head tilts. "Wait." He glances down at his chest, and his hand flies to his side. "Fuck!"

"You had surgery. They had to remove the bullet. It was stuck by your spine," I tell him, and his gaze whips back to me. "He was going to kill me and you stopped him."

"How? When? Are you alright?" Eric sits up further, wincing at the sudden movement, and he tries to pull me closer. It's useless given how close I am, and how little strength he has. "Aren't you…you're…"

"I pushed him down the cliff. He somehow got back up and he came back to make sure I didn't tell anyone what he did. You stopped him in time and then you collapsed." I pause when Eric's face darkens, and it makes me smile that he looks annoyed. "I'm fine. He didn't hurt me. I was more…cold than anything. I stayed with you until everyone got there."

He stares.

Grey eyes hold mine until he looks down. There's nothing to see, given Camille had given me pajamas twice my size, but that doesn't stop him.

"And the baby?"

Hearing him say the word baby makes my chest tighten. It also makes everything in me tense up, and not in a good way. For the past month, I've carried the baby like a secret. Not only did I think of him, or her, as being mine, but I felt a strange protectiveness over whoever they were. I wouldn't let anyone hurt me, or them, and Eric's stare tells me he's not drugged enough to have forgotten.

And oh, how I wish it hadn't come to this.

I never wanted to be in a place where I'd like him to forget for both our sanity.

"Fine, I think. Camille said I have to see one of the doctors here in the morning. She said they're all really nice." I answer carefully, watching his expression slip.

"Oh, well that's good. That's what you should be looking for in a doctor," he retorts, but he softens when I reach for his hand. "You should be checked out. It was freezing out there. You were wandering around in the rain for who knows how long. You said you were going home and –"

He falls silent when I press his hand to my stomach. It's easy to miss in the oversized shirt, but impossible to miss with his hand on me. My negative feelings about being pregnant slowly fade away when he looks up, and his expression is completely unreadable.

"I was going home. I went to find you."

He stays silent.

The room, large and elegant and sterile, suddenly feels claustrophobic. The walls press inward and the ceiling lowers, and it hits me I'm about to fall asleep, or die from pure exhaustion.

"Come here."

He knows it.

It's why Eric moves, not caring that his side has been neatly sliced open, invaded with precise surgical equipment, and stitched back together. I catch the second flash of pain as he lies back, and the third one when his teeth grit together. He's warmer now, and I know this because he pulls me against the safe part of his chest and yanks the blankets up.

There is nothing more.

No deep discussion about what happened. No apologetic tale of why he acted like he did in Erudite, and if it truly was the only way he thought he could get me out of there. There is no rehashing of our meeting in the woods, no forced story about how I should have let him go, and no lecture on how I could have died. I almost miss the threatening messages, like the time he thought I would fall to my death, and the dark looks he threw as I walked through Dauntless.

There is nothing but quiet, his heart beating, and the safety of this place.

Erudite is safe.

This room is safe.

Eric, my brain warmly reminds me, is not safe.

But he is.

When he turns to lie more on his side, one arm slides around me. His fingers find my stomach again, seeking out the physical proof of our child. It's slight, but there, important and telling as ever as he keeps his hand there. He holds onto both of us, me and the baby, and I hear him mumble my name as his nose finds my hair.

I close my eyes, thinking of the cold night in the woods and how soft and warm this bed is, and I fall asleep before I can answer him.

At some point, Blythe returns like a demon from the underworld.

I hear her shrieking a scathing rant about how Eric is her son and she has every right to see him. I find a moment of awareness to open my eyes, and it's a mistake; she hovers near the end of the bed, seething like a banshee to have someone move me.

They don't.

What they do is call Daniel. He returns looking oddly alert for someone who hasn't slept, and professionally dressed. He stops her right as she heads for me, and were she to make it all the way around the bed, I would imagine she'd have dragged me out by my hair.

Instead, there is screaming and shouting, and I hear the words do not come back hissed at her. I open my eyes to see her being forced out of the room, and for a brief second, she looks right at me.

Were she anyone else, this moment would change her.

She would have collapsed from her own grief, not just at the death of her sister, but at the anger and heartache of knowing she'd caused so much turmoil. She would have pleaded to stay, recanted her words from the dinner, or even mere hours ago, and begged to talk. She would have apologized, tearfully or even in faux regret, just to be able to make sure he was okay.

I can see it on her face, somewhere deep down inside her, she does care if Eric is alright.

But she's not anyone else.

She's Blythe.

Her face turns to pure rage, and she yells my name so loud someone calls security.

I close my eyes.

Eric's fingers press me back toward him, insistent, and it's clear he's always chosen me.

The onslaught of visitors is almost too much for me.

They show up in swarms, descending upon Eric and myself with a vivacity I have never seen before. My mother and Harrison are first. I have yet to leave Eric's room, and no one seems to mind. My things are brought here, and the two of them only bring more. Soft pajamas, but not as soft as Camille's, a few dresses, some sweaters, slippers, my hairbrush, hair ties, and the pink blanket from my bed.

They both hug me at the same time, and I drown in the smell and feeling of being home. The homesickness rushes right back; the smell of thyme and rosemary overtakes me, and I would bet they'd cooked something for lunch before they came here. I give in to them without a fight. I let them hold onto me, and I ignore Harrison's repeated apology for Peter. I promise him I'm fine, and I don't blame him for a single second.

He eventually believes me.

Hank and Kerrie are next.

They arrive in a slow flurry of excitement and wide-eyed horror. Kerrie brings all sorts of things for me, but also for Eric. He manages one wry, tight suspicious smile as she presses shirts into his arms, and he stares at her like she's from outer space when she peeks out the curtains to admire the view. She's careful, but oh so kind, and she even informs him she's made him some blueberry muffins and left them on the table for when he feels better.

Her generosity is foreign to him, and he grudgingly accepts it despite having no clue who she is.

He has no choice.

His father is in and out, never fully filling him in on what happened, but constantly making sure he's alright. Camille shows up vigilantly, enough so that I believe she has no other patients.

May and Jerry come by. Jerry pokes at all the equipment in the room, muttering how it seems a bit too much, a sentiment my mother echoed, and May cheerfully tells Eric not to be a moron and stay in bed. She smacks him on the arm before she leaves, smugly informing him he is a moron, and if he hurts me again, she'll kill him herself.

It's the first time I see him visibly flinch.

Max and Tori come by, apologetically informing me Jason and Rylan have been in and out, but very busy tying everything up. Turns out, Jack wasn't so thrilled to hear about Eric getting shot, and neither was anyone from Abnegation. Jason and Rylan had the best relationships with the other factions, so they were sent to keep the peace. Jack eventually agreed to a truce, but Abnegation flat out refused, even with Harrison promising them it was the right thing to do.

Max smiled when he told me they sent Four to see if he could help.

He refused. He eventually went because he wanted to see Tris' father, and Tori rolled her eyes when Max snickered their engagement is likely to follow since Tris had announced she was pregnant.

It wasn't Jeremy's baby, either.

The news won over Andrew Prior agreeing to whatever terms Dauntless was asking for, though there was some pushback from Marcus.

I listened to all of them.

I sat on the bed with Eric, my feet pulled beneath me, and I listened to each one spill every last detail. Tori touched my shoulder affectionately, and she quietly told me she hoped I'd come back.

"It was nice having another girl around. The balance of power is incredibly unfair around the office," she said with a wink, and I found myself smiling up at her.

I hadn't given much thought to what would happen once we left the hospital. It seemed like it would never happen. Like days and months would pass and we'd still be here, safe and hidden in the large room.

When the next wave of visitors showed up, all friends of Daniel's and all wearing the same white coats he has, Eric's sigh of annoyance tells me he feels the exact same way, just not so cheerful.

He kicks them out with a snarl, and the two of us go back to bed, not willing to talk to anyone else but each other.

"Did you forgive him?"

My mother sinks into the seat across from me, and she smiles brightly at the server who drops off our waters. He waits to see if she wants anything else, then politely steps away to fetch some forks and knives.

"Should I not forgive him?"

I look back at her, feeling like everyone in here is staring at us.

They aren't.

The hospital cafeteria is pretty quiet. The room is so large I can barely see where it ends, and everything is sparkling and pristine. It's formal, far more formal than I would imagine a cafeteria could be, and it has a full wait staff. There is no line to pick out food yourself, and plenty of workers waiting for us to place an order. One waves as we glance around, and everyone smiles as they walk by.

They all know who I am.

Camille made this very clear when I told her my mother and I were going to get lunch. She didn't approve of me wandering about the hospital, but she couldn't stop me from eating with my own mother. In a few ways, it felt like Camille was stepping in as a maternal figure when my mother couldn't be here. It had been two days since Eric had surgery, and despite a quick recovery, neither of us had been discharged.

If anything, Daniel seemed just fine having us stay without any sort of estimated release date in mind.

The struggle was clear when everyone was together. My mother and Harrison frowned when Daniel insisted he had to make sure he was confident in our recovery, and Camille and Daniel stood with their arms crossed when Harrison snapped I could recover at home.

My mother even offered to have Eric come with us, and that led to Eric pressing his fingers to his temples like his head might explode, and Daniel gently insisting Eric was in no shape to leave.

Which was a lie.

I'd watched him pull his shirt on over his head this morning. He stared at me while he did it, and he scowled when a nurse told him to be careful and tried to push him back into bed.

He was fine.

He reminded me of one of the wild animals Forrest liked to catch. Caged in the most elegant of all traps, with fine dining and rich sheets, totally unable to break free.

"I think he's very sorry. I don't…I don't expect you to do anything you don't want to. If forgiving him doesn't feel right, then don't." My mother glances at the menu in front of her, and she sighs when nothing is less than an extravagant display of how luxurious Erudite is. "Have you eaten here before? What are these salads?"

"I'm sure they're all good," I glance at the menu myself, and I pick one that sounds simple. "I already forgave him. I believe what he said. I don't think he meant to hurt me."

"But you look miserable," my mother pauses, and she has a point. "You don't know where to go, do you? The look on your face tells me you want to go back to Dauntless, but you don't think it's right?"

I sink into the booth, hating her ability to see right through me.

I'd love for things to go back to normal, but I no longer know what normal is.

"I never even got the chance to hear his explanation. How do I trust him? How do I know that just because Jeanine is dead, that someone else won't start over? I've never even met Cara."

"From what Harrison said, she's nice, but very young. She's got a lot of responsibility on her plate, including trying to fix their reputation. The whole faction is very on edge after learning what Jeanine was doing. I don't think Cara will be too focused on some percentage anymore."

We both stop when the server returns, and he politely takes our order. I order something other than water, and his eyes light up in delight at being sent to fetch a lemonade.

"They must be awfully bored around here. Daniel is insisting on two more weeks."

I look up in surprise when Harrison slides into the seat beside my mother. His presence isn't shocking, but I'd assumed he was back in Amity.

"I didn't know you were here!"

"I just got here. Ran into the famous Dr. Coulter when I was walking in. He went on and on about physical therapy and making sure you were okay. If you ask me, he's using his power to keep you here. I told him one more day. I'll take you back myself if he doesn't start your paperwork. If he refuses, I'll arrest him for kidnapping." Harrison is annoyed, and he roughly takes a glass of water from a different server. "Thank you."

"Would that work? Does this count as kidnapping?" I wonder aloud, and my mother laughs.

"Harrison, he's not kidnapping her. He just wants to make sure she's not sick. She was in the cold and the rain. I want her to leave, too, but I don't mind him looking out for her. Though two weeks is a bit much."

"Eric is losing it. He just kicked out two of the nurses who were sent to help him take a shower. His father is going to have his hands full," Harrison points out. "Don't blame him. He's a strong guy. Says he feels fine. Doesn't excuse his behavior, but I can't fault him for wanting out."

"Will he go back to Dauntless?" I look up when the server drops off our salads at lightning speed. He drops off a hamburger for Harrison, and we both look at him in confusion.

"I ordered on the walk in. Coulter said they have mobile ordering. I thought I'd try it. You guys can have some."

"I'm good, thanks," I reach for my fork, heavy and shiny, and I wonder what they would do if they had to eat with normal silverware. "So, do you think he'll go back? Does he return as a leader? Is he in trouble?"

"He's in trouble with a lot of people, especially now that there's been another death," Harrison shrugs. "The issue at hand is those were his orders. They came from Jeanine, and even with her shitty instructions, he had to follow them. He and I talked, and I don't believe he'd been helping her the way she wanted. The paper trail on him shows he hadn't been responding to her like he once was. He missed meetings, wouldn't turn over data, didn't tell her he'd married you. The issue is Peter had been working to take him down, and Eric's actions came to light. Jeanine's old assistant originally blamed it all on Eric, and once she got wind he was injured, she started gunning for him. She asked he be prosecuted before the Candor courts. She thinks he should be held responsible for the loss of their leader. Jack and I looked at everything. It's favorable if you take all that into consideration, but you were the one who was there. If you say otherwise, he could be prosecuted for attempted murder."

I take a slow bite of lettuce, and when I try to swallow, it sticks in my throat.

I know who Jeanine's assistant was.

Ashley.

I finally swallow and I reach for my drink. "Who would prosecute him?"

"Who will? Everly?" My mother and I both look at him, and she glances back at me. "Harrison, is Eric in trouble? Does the Dauntless faction want him prosecuted?"

"It's up to Everly. Max won't push the issue. Jason and Rylan want both Eric and Everly back in Dauntless. They want Eric back as a leader as soon as he's released. The others, Jack and even Andrew, all agree they're fine with whatever direction Eric takes. Ultimately, his fate rests in Everly's hands."

"It's up to me?" I stare across the table, stunned. "If I decide I want to push this, he'd be arrested?"

Harrison is silent.

He toys with his fork, examining it like he's never seen one before, until he finally sighs. I watch him stab at a french fry, clearly wasting time.

The tattoo on his arm peeks out from beneath his sleeve. It's dark, the same inky maze that's on Eric's skin, and the sight of it makes my stomach turn over.

"Yes."

"Are you going to do it?"

The room is thick with uneasiness, and for once, it's not from me.

Eric sits on the edge of the bed, lacing up a pair of boots and ignoring the squawking protest from the nurse behind him. He has no orders to go home, but he's made it very clear he's not staying.

"Everly?"

His eyes raise to mine, grey and lovely but burning with fear. His role is reversed right now; he's used to being the hunter, the one who pulled fear right up from the throats of his victims. I was not the first person with any divergence he'd discovered, and while I believe otherwise, I might not be the last.

There would be more.

Some girl.

Some boy.

Maybe our own child.

A sliver of a percentage, enough to warrant death on the orders of someone else.

I didn't truly believe any of this mattered anymore, but I couldn't be certain. I couldn't be certain of anything, other than what I felt for him was heavy with betrayal and even heavier with a desperation to fix this. He wasn't broken in a way that needed my saving.

He needed his own saving.

He might have found it, but for now, he wavers on the brink of his own breakdown, knowing if I said the words, he'd be hauled away.

He isn't used to this. He doesn't know what to do, or how to handle it.

Neither do I.

"I don't know," I answer softly, so quietly it sounds like nothing, but it's the truth.

There is not a chance in hell I'd make him go before a trial, especially with Ashley pushing for it. My guess is she wanted me to punish him for taking me to Erudite, and in turn, he'd fall right back into her arms.

He and I hadn't had a lot of time together. After leaving Erudite, Harrison brought me to Amity where he was certain I'd stay alive. He kept Eric and me apart for his own reasons, and now I wondered if he'd caught wind of Ashley's attempt to win Eric back by having me admit he'd tried to murder me.

Maybe Harrison's logic was with enough time and space, I'd willingly forgive Eric, and everything would finally calm down.

Forgiving him came naturally. There was truth and honor in his words. He meant them, for had he not, he would have let Peter kill me. The end game of the Erudite testing was death; no one won, and no one lived. My death at the hands of someone else shouldn't bother him if I meant nothing, and his fall from grace proved this. He still had his title, he still had his job in Dauntless, but he would have nothing if I decided otherwise.

The rush of power should make me feel drunk.

Instead, it makes my eyes burn.

"Just…do it already. Call Harrison. There's no point in dragging it out." Eric's words are rough, hopeless and tight, and they don't match him at all. He finishes lacing up his boots and stands up, pulling himself to his full height. "Tell him I know it's over."

I watch him. I watch him bite down on the inside of his cheek, then wince as he moves too fast. The pain should be subsiding, but I'd also watched him throw away the painkillers the minute the nurse turned her back.

"Did you ever love me?" I watch his eyes widen, and he stares. "I need to know."

I press the issue this time.

Forgiving him will mean a lot of things. It will be like taking my own hurt and choosing not to use it against him. It will mean moving on. Returning to Amity, or Dauntless, whichever I choose, and trying to forget every single moment I'd spent with him. It will mean letting go of what happened, trauma after trauma, and starting my life over on my terms. Or maybe, in the strangest move of all, it would mean returning to Dauntless with him. Starting over there, getting to know him all over again, right down to finding out if what he felt was real.

For some reason, everything hinges on knowing this.

I want him to answer me.

I want the same quietness Hank and Kerrie have, and the same unending, unbreakable bond my mother and Harrison have. I want Andy and Andrea's stupid love of arts and crafts, and Forrest's ambition to better the life of someone else without question.

I also want the moon to fall right out of the sky, and maybe right onto Eric, to make the stunned look fall off his face.

I want it all, but it'll take me a second to get there.

"I told you," Eric answers quickly, reaching for his jacket. The clothes he has on are his, but different. The black shirt and black pants are so new they still have creases in them, and the jacket is not the one he'd been shot in. He's a vision of darkness, cloaked in his own demise. "Everly, I told you…I never meant to take you to her. I married you to keep you away from her. I don't know why you have to hear me say –"

"Because I want you to say it. If I'm going to forgive you, I want to hear you say you loved me. Even if you don't now," I move closer, crossing my arms over my chest, and ignoring the wave of anger I feel. My emotions are a shipwreck; cracked apart, strewn everywhere and washed away just when I think I've gained control. "Did you love me? Or was this really just a game to you? Was it really all because of the stupid test?"

He swallows.

The nurses slink out of the room, grasping each other by their elbows and trying to stall so they can overhear him. Their stares are concerned, at me, not him, and knowing. A declaration of love would win them over, but they know it's not theirs to hear.

"Say it. Tell me the truth. Even if the answer is no." I stop in front of him, and I have to look up at his face. His jaw is tensed, tight and clenched down, and his eyes lock on mine. "Eric?"

He reaches out.

His fingers catch me by the arm, pulling me closer and closer, until I'm right in front of his chest. His lips part, lush and cracked from the cold, and his cheeks are sharper than they were. He hadn't really eaten since being brought here, and the most he'd done was accept a cup of coffee and some toast so they'd leave him alone.

His fingers curl in, beckoning me to press myself against him, and I resist on principle.

He moves one hand to touch my neck. His fingers still when they find the lingering bruise, a lovely shade of yellow that just won't go away, and he exhales heavily.

"Yes."

He answers evenly, without hesitation.

"I loved you. I still do."

I expect him to kiss me. In Zander's books, the ones he'd shoved in the corner and declared too gross, this is the part where the prince would have leaned in and kissed the princess and the spell would be broken. Unfortunately for me, I don't have a fairy godmother, except for maybe Kerrie, there are no frogs or talking animals or wizards, and Eric is no prince.

He presses his lips to my forehead, and after a moment, he lets go.

He drops his hands away from me.

I start to say his name, the letters right on the tip of my tongue, when he leaves.

He heads out the door, past a group of waiting nurses, and right out an emergency exit. It sets off an alarm so loud everyone comes running, but not a single person realizes what's going on until Camille comes running around a corner.

She swears so loudly my ears hurt, and she only stops when Daniel finds her, and woefully informs her she can't fire anyone over this.

"I brought this for you."

Kerrie stands beside me, handing me a cup of hot cocoa. She's wrapped in another one of Hank's sweaters, now claimed as her own, and all I can think is he must be freezing. He probably has nothing warm to wear, since she and I seemed to have claimed everything for our own. She waits patiently while I take the cup, and her smile is encouraging.

"I think you'll like it. I added peppermint to it."

She had to be from outer space.

Zander and I thought of this theory when I returned to Amity.

After Eric left, storming out of the hospital and into the streets of Erudite, Harrison showed up to take me home. He asked if I wanted to take further action regarding being taken to Erudite. The look on his face told me he didn't believe Eric was truly at fault, and neither did I. I shook my head no, graciously accepted Camille's help with packing up my things, and left with my father before Daniel could demand I stay for more bloodwork, another x-ray of my elbow where I'd hit it, or dinner.

I came home to Zander waiting for me, wide-eyed and brave, and he lunged for me. He whispered he loved me the most, but also the least, because he'd lost one of his toy trucks and he blamed me.

Together, we unpacked my things. Zander helped, throwing the expensive pajamas on the floor and dumping out the clean clothes so he could use the bag as a cape, and then he ran out the door. He returned to tell me Dad and Kerrie had come for dinner, and then he lowered his voice and informed me she'd brought him moon bubbles.

I smiled at him, his expression absolutely overjoyed at such an exciting gift, and I knew Kerrie was the person our family was missing. I quickly learned her quietness belied how creative and crafty she was, and her personality was nothing short of gentle. She was never rattled, always willing to help, and very concerned over where I would be living.

A house we were currently standing in front of, staring up at the rambling porch.

"Thank you," I take a sip of the hot cocoa, and it is good. I gesture to the large windows, the oversized door, and the mostly empty areas that will be filled by no one but myself. "Do you think it's too much?"

"I think it's beautiful."

It is beautiful.

In the way where it was likely to be haunted and I'd probably never sleep since no one would be here but me.

It was a gift from my father, or fathers. They both agreed if I was going to stay in Amity, then I needed my own space. It wasn't far from their houses, and it was close enough to May's that I knew I was being watched. The home was set back, old and creaking, but welcoming.

I had the sneaking suspicion it was Harrison's idea, and there might have been some lingering guilt going on.

"Do you think anyone has died in it?" I look up at the window on the second floor, convincing myself there's someone up there. Next to me, I expect Kerrie to look at me like I'm crazy, but she nods her head and pulls her sweater closer to her.

"Probably."

She and I both laugh, and for the first time in days, I feel somewhat normal.

It's fleeting.

The porch stairs are the same color as the ones at my mother's, and I'm reminded of when I stood on them, looking up at Eric, and he told me out of everything in Amity, he wanted me.

I make the snap decision to paint them a lovely shade of black.

Rylan shows up two days after I move in.

The first night was awful. I'd moved on from feeling like I might throw up in whatever direction I looked to being a complete insomniac. The night became my friend and foe, torturing me while I lie in a bed much too large, thinking this would be so much better if Eric were here.

I liked the idea.

It was torturous, but it felt good. I'd long wished for privacy with him, and I'd long wished to be alone with just him and me. I'd been gifted an entire house on the hopes I would stay here and raise my child, but all I could think of was how nice his things would look here. His jacket, slung over one of the kitchen chairs. His boots, next to my shoes. His shirts, hung up beside my dresses.

My insomnia gave me plenty of time to think about this, and my delirium gave me plenty of time to contemplate calling him.

I did.

Both nights.

I went as far as pulling out the phone he'd given me and clicking on his name. My finger hovered over the screen, and I chickened out before I could do it.

He'd left Erudite and I hadn't seen him since.

Harrison had.

He told me he went to Dauntless to see the exact location they wanted the cameras, and he found him in his bar. Drunk, sloppily tipping his chair back and crowing how he was just fucking fine and he didn't need anyone. When I asked, Harrison grudgingly admitted both Jason and Rylan were there, and their plan had been to cheer him up. Eric saw Harrison, raised his glass, loudly announced he'd never divorce me, then slammed his drink down so hard it shattered.

I took it he wasn't doing so well.

I wasn't, either.

I'd gone back and forth over my next step, but my real focus was trying to make the house look less like a family of ghosts lived here, and more like I did.

Which is exactly what Rylan is thinking. I watch his eyes sweep over everything with casual horror, and his mind whirls. He looks up at the black staircase, the black beams running across the living room, and the large, glass windows and his eyes twinkle.

"Your wardrobe fits in here. You know that, right? That's why you moved here."

He lunges for me, hugging me with enough enthusiasm to knock me over, and he doesn't let go. I'd opened the door to him standing there, dressed not in his uniform, but a dark blue shirt and black pants, and he'd practically leapt inside. He made his way past before I could greet him, and he looked around before announcing he'd help me.

"I miss you. Christina misses you. Even Arlene is worried. Everyone is just waiting for you to come back, but…" Rylan trails off, his hair pulled on top of his head, and he sighs. "You're still way too short. I thought maybe you'd be taller. I've spent a lot of nights wondering how it worked. Eric is so tall and you are so not tall. The physics don't add up."

"It worked just fine," I roll my eyes, but I lean into his hug, wishing desperately he'd brought Eric along with him. "How is…how is Eric doing? Harrison said he was drunk at Clyde's and he got kicked out."

"Eric?" Rylan repeats, pretending he's never heard of him. "Oh, he's great. Absolutely fantastic. Someone has to be around him at all times to make sure he doesn't kill anyone, and someone else has to make sure he doesn't drink enough that he falls into the chasm. His paperwork is late, Max has a headache anytime anyone says Eric's name, and Arlene said she'd unban me from the infirmary if I could bring you back to Dauntless and stop his raging tantrums. So um, let's not unpack these boxes and you can come back with me."

"I don't have any boxes. It's just my clothes," I point out, and I untangle myself from him. "Why hasn't he come here? I almost called him the other night."

"Oh, because he's really angsty. His ego is bruised that you thought he was going to kill you. I mean, the theory wasn't far off and you had every reason to assume he was, but still." Rylan heads into the kitchen, examining the sink for a second before he shakes his head. "You can't live here. The plumbing doesn't even work. The electrical is wired all wrong. The faucet could explode at any time."

I sigh, and I cross my arms over my chest. "My sink isn't going to explode. I appreciate the effort, but…I don't think I can go back to Dauntless. Eric left me in the hospital. I wanted to make sure he was alive, and he left me. Again. So, I think that's a pretty clear indicator of how he feels."

"He's not good with his feelings. I told you that a while ago," Rylan moves to the toaster, and he holds it up. "Is this a gift from Wesley? How can he afford such a fine toaster at such a young age?"

"No," I laugh, and it's a painful punch of how much I've missed Rylan. "I don't know where it came from. But hey, can you stay for dinner? I'll make you something. Something other than toast. You can tell me about Eric while I cook."

Rylan turns, and for a second, he's so serious, he looks like something else altogether.

"Oh Everly. You have no idea what's going on with Eric. I don't think I have enough hours in the day to explain everything. But of course I will stay. Feel free to make anything with peace serum in it. I've had a rough week."

I smile at him, walking over to take the toaster from his hands, and I carefully move it away from the sink, and plug it back in.

"Okay, then, I'll start cooking and you start talking."

The stars must align or the planets return to retrograde or whatever other cosmic event could happen, because he agrees.

Rylan jumps up to sit on the counter while I rummage through the cabinet for something to make, and he shares the very low tale of Eric Coulter, Prince of Dauntless, currently hell bent on destroying everything around him just to feel alive.

I say goodbye as the stars fall.

This house has a lovely view of the night sky, even better than Hank's, and I try to figure out if I can get Zander to come over. I dismiss the thought when my phone rings, and Rylan's grin is all knowing.

"Just know, if you come back, I'll be the best friend ever. I won't even tell anyone you only own clothes that make you look like you're about to conjure spirits from another world."

"Goodbye, Rylan." I swat him away halfheartedly, wishing I had half his energy. "I'll see you soon."

"Tomorrow," he promises, bouncing down black steps. "I'm off for the next few weeks. I have years of vacation time so jokes on anyone who thinks I'm going back to work anytime soon."

Rylan waves, then shoves his hands in his pockets and heads toward the main part of the faction. He looks back once, to see if I'm going to answer my phone, then throws me a thumbs up.

I shake my head at him, but I do answer the call as I slip back into the house.

The house is cold, but he is warm.

Oh so tall and striking, even in his disheveled state. His hair is soft beneath my fingers, longer on top and shorter on the sides, and he smells good. I press my nose into his skin, against the dark blocks which lie hidden beneath his collar, and I close my eyes as his arms slip around my waist. I speak first, having the upper hand given he's in my house.

"It's really good to see you again."

He snorts.

I feel the laugh spread through him, sort of reluctant and unamused. I keep my eyes closed as he walks us back a step, into the haunted house, and I loathe the space between us. I wiggle closer, and he holds on tighter.

He'd shown up a second ago. I'd opened the door to him standing before me, dressed all in black with his jacket collar sharp and severe and his expression indescribable, and I'd reached for him before I could stop myself. My plan had been to demand answers. To make him tell me why he'd left me alone, why he'd never told me he'd been asked to test me, and why he'd thought all of this was fine.

It fell apart the minute we locked eyes, and I lunged for him like I was drowning.

"You live here? Alone?"

"For now," I lift my head up to look at him, and he doesn't look much better than he did in the hospital. His eyes are tired, his jaw is tight, but he's alive. He's alive and in front of me, and only moves his stare to look around.

"This is uh, bigger than it looks from the outside."

"I hate it. It's freezing." I loop my arms around his neck, and I pull him down with all the strength I have. He bends easily, and his forehead touches mine. "I thought you couldn't come here."

"I paid off the guards. They were surprisingly easy to bribe." I can't tell if he's being serious or not, but I don't care. "And there's another way in. I took the train from Dauntless. Walked down the hill where Peter cornered you and right into Amity. Told someone my name was Four, and wouldn't you know, people actually like him here? They pointed out your house without any questions at all."

"You did not tell them your name is Four," I shake my head, and my hand presses to his cheek.

To my relief, he's warm.

Not as warm as I remember, but warm enough to remind me he's alive and mostly well.

"It ranks up there as one of the lowest moments of my life, but at this point, who's keeping track?" Eric pulls away to look at me, and his concern is quick. "Are you alright? You look…different."

I stare up at him incredulously, wondering what he was trying to say. "Well, I did nearly die. Twice. Oh, and you, the pregnancy and all."

He cocks an eyebrow at me, and his next words are tense. "I didn't mean any of those things. I meant you look…sad."

"I'm not," I tell the truth, mostly. I wasn't wallowing in self pity or sinking under the weight of my own cruel, endless thoughts about what life could have been like if I had just picked Dauntless to begin with. "Not all the time. I just keeping wondering –"

"Wondering what?"

"Why did you leave me? Why did you leave the hospital? Why didn't you stay and leave with me?" Our reunion changes with my questioning. "I made sure you woke up after the surgery. I just thought…I thought you were staying.

His lips part, and he stares at me, fingers curling in tighter so I don't move.

"I thought you would –"

"I would what? Take you back to Dauntless? Everyone in the hospital was acting like I was about to murder you while you slept. How would I have taken you from there?" Eric has a point, and he looks to the side of me for a quick second. "I left because it was the right thing to do. I thought you needed space. I was asked to bring you to Jeanine a dozen times. She asked and when I didn't do it, she turned around and demanded I bring you to her. She threatened to take away everything, including you. I did everything I could to keep you safe, but I made a mistake with Jeremy. I made the mistake of showing him the list and explaining the divergence."

He exhales heavily, the memory millions of years ago, and he shakes his head. "The divergence doesn't mean anything now. None of her test subjects ever gave her the answer she wanted. I felt like I failed, and failure is not an option for me. It's never been. I couldn't fix it. This is the only thing I've ever not had control over."

"But you left me. You let me–"

"I didn't know what else to do. I had been looking for you for weeks. I knew you were in Amity, and I couldn't get to you. I tried to bargain with Harrison. I tried to call you, and he warned me not to. I tried to reason with him, but no matter what I said or did, he was the one who showed up when you were in the simulation. All I can do is hope you forgive me, and…and…"

I forgive him.

I forgive him when his lips touch mine, finally warm and no longer cracked from hours in the rain. I forgive him when I pull him toward the stairs, not giving him the chance to notice I didn't really live here. I existed here, and this was where people could find me, but I certainly wasn't doing any real living inside these walls.

I forgive him when he pulls away to look at me, and the piercing above his eye pulls taught.

"You want this? You want me to stay? Because your father, actually, both your fathers, told me if I ever came near you again, I wouldn't walk away so easily."

I nod, rising up on my toes to kiss him again, until his hands are back where I want them, and I try not to laugh. Hank wouldn't hurt him, but Harrison undoubtedly would.

"I'll tell them to stop. Promise me you won't leave again. Because if you do, if you walk out of here, or you decide you think you know what I want, I won't ever answer your phone calls. And I'll have Jack Kang file my divorce papers and I'll let May train her ducks to bite your ankles. Got it?"

He nods back.

His teeth catch my lip, and a second later, he mumbles my name.

"I promise, Everly."

He uses my name like a loaded weapon, reminding me I'd signed off on some secret agreement to be his wife and it was unlikely I could even get to Candor.

I could.

I'd make Carole drive me if it came down to it.

"Good." I smile against his mouth, lingering for a moment, and his hesitation is only because he doesn't know where he's going. "My room is upstairs. On the right. You can hang up your jacket in the closet. And put your boots in there. There's plenty of space."

He smirks, and the roles are reversed. "Is there room between all the dresses?"

"If you ask nicely, I'll even let you have a single drawer in the dresser. It's where I keep all my important documents and emails."

"Funny," he snorts. I break away to lead him up the dark steps, a faint memento of my time in Dauntless, to a dark hallway. He's quiet as he follows me up to the second floor, and he tilts his head up to look at the stairway leading to the third floor.

He pauses, his eyes trained on the wooden beams and the ornate stair rail, before he turns to me.

"What's up there?"

I pause, taking his hand in mine, and I shake my head.

I'm too impatient to tell him the only thing on the third floor is empty rooms, an attic space so terrifying I had no desire to go in it,a single lone suite Rylan had claimed for himself.

I do tell him to follow me, and once he does, he's not so quiet anymore.

In the latest hour, Eric groans my name.

I listen to him as his hands grab onto me, nails digging into my skin, and his head tilts back. His skin is lit up by warm, low candlelight, and he's a sight before me on pink sheets. His throat is exposed; the blocks bending as they are pulled taught, and his arms are tense. The bandage from his side is gone, and in its place is the faintest reminder of Peter's attempt on his life. The scar from his surgery is neat, but hard to miss. There is all the agony in the world at seeing him like this, but it slowly falls away as my eyes start to shut.

The stars aren't falling this time, they're seconds away from exploding.

"Ever…"

Eric doesn't finish saying the last part of my name. I gasp his, liking how everything felt far better in this moment. Every single touch was intensified, and every single moment went on forever. It was our time apart, self-inflicted but obviously warranted, and the fact that were anyone to know he was here, buried deep inside me and about to come, someone would surely shoot him for the second time.

It is a risk we're both willing to take.

"I love you," I tell him, grinning as his eyes fly open and straight to mine. He pushes himself up on his elbows, and his mouth finds mine.

"I know. Not get off me," he grunts, groaning when I shake my head.

There was zero chance I was moving, and zero reason to move.

"I just wanted you to know. I've been thinking about it. And I think your dad loves you, too." I stop talking when he breaks away to glare at me, and I like his furious expression as he screws his eyes shut.

"Stop talking about my father right now," Eric hisses. "I never imagined our reunion to involve you bringing him up."

I can't help but laugh, though I stop laughing when he takes hold of my hips and pulls me closer.

"Say it, Eric Coulter. Tell me you love me," I parrot his own words back to him, spoken ages ago in his cold bed while I tried to get him to admit his feelings were real.

He stares up mockingly, but it's fleeting.

He takes my face in his hands, now sitting all the way up, and he smiles. It's a real smile, not smirky or smug, but one of genuine happiness.

"I do love you. I already told you."

The stars do fall.

At some point, we are up so late that the night turns to morning, and I only fall asleep because Eric is warm, his chest is warm, and his legs are pushed through mine. He twirls my hair around his finger, over and over, and above us, the floor creaks.

"Is that Rylan or a ghost?" Eric mutters, already half asleep. "Actually, you don't have to answer. Neither option is any better."

I fall asleep without another thought, and I most certainly do not dream of Rylan haunting my attic.

Things don't fall into place exactly like I imagined they would.

They fall into place easier, but only because it seems that for once, luck is on my side.

I wake up to someone banging on the door, and I lift my head from Eric's chest with extreme annoyance. I immediately lie back down, shoving my head closer to his throat, and I lowly inform him he can get the door.

"I can't," he mumbles. "I got shot. You get the door. I don't even live here. If I go down there, I might get shot again."

"No," I groan, but he has a point. Despite me being thrilled he is back, and being still slightly drunk off our night together and the first good night's sleep I've had in forever, the rest of Amity might not be so welcoming if he were to wander downstairs and snarl at whoever it is to get lost. "No one knocked on the door in Dauntless."

"They knew better," he throws his arm over his eyes, and he waits until I sit up.

The banging grows louder. It intensifies as whoever it is refuses to give up, and I shove my hair out of my face and try to figure out where my dress went.

"That's it. I'm moving," I announce, and I push the covers away. I scramble to grab the dress off the floor where Eric had tossed it, and I throw him a withering glare.

He's ignoring me.

He's smirking into my pillow, already almost back to sleep.

"I'll be back," I warn him, sounding far more threatening that I could have imagined, and he smirks even harder.

"Good. Go tell Jasper you're busy."

"There's no one here named Jasper," I mutter, leaving him sleeping. I try to fix my hair while I walk, and I wince as I walk down the stairs, carefully, trying not to fall and break my neck.

It's silent when I reach the front door, and I fling it open in pure exasperation. "What!"

There is no one.

No one on the porch, no one on the pathway, and no one at either of the neighbor's. I swear loudly, and I return in a huff, figuring it was someone playing a prank on me.

It's not.

Exactly ten seconds later, Rylan bounces back over with a duck in his hands and a look of pure joy.

"I caught one but May said I can't keep him. I already named him Indiana Duck, though." He looks at me like I should be more excited, and his head tilts. "You aren't laughing. You don't think my duck hunting is entertaining at all."

"I don't," I agree, grouchy that I've been pulled away from Eric to look at a duck. "It's early. Do you ever sleep?"

"Sometimes," Rylan answers suspiciously, and his eyes look over my head. "He's here, isn't he?"

"Who?" I feign all the innocence I can muster, because who knows what Eric told anyone. Or if he told anyone anything. Rylan is one of his best friends, but he might not have told him he was coming here for his own safety.

"Who? Really? You think I don't know that Eric would eventually make his way to you? Do you really think I don't know what my best friend is doing? Do you really think…"

"Are you here for breakfast?" I squint up at him, and I try to remember if I invited him back here. Or if he'd even really left. "I'm not really awake and –"

"Can I see him?" Rylan asks, and he does his best not to laugh. "Is he in your room? He is, isn't he?"

He looks up at the staircase, and my expression is all the confirmation he needs.

"I knew it! Admit it! You think he's handsome!"

"I'm married to him," I point out dryly, and I gesture for him to come inside. "But, hey, I'll make you some coffee if you stop yelling."

"Fine."

Rylan agrees quickly.

He also agrees to keep quiet on everything; the house, how far along I am, what's going on in the Amity faction, and Eric's presence here. His smile is wide on that one, happy and pleased as ever, even when he insists we both return to Dauntless together.

He doesn't like my answer, and neither does Eric.

By the time the sun warms up, Eric has less patience than ever.

I fully understand, because I, myself, loathe the slow, unhurried pace of Amity in a time when I should be enjoying it. I have no real worries here, other than the occasional practice contractions that force my eyes to water. I ignore them. I focus on how lucky I am, and how in theory, I am very happy to be here.

I owe no one anything in regard to the house, and I'm not asked to work anywhere. Harrison stops by daily to have coffee and breakfast, and my mother spends her mornings trying to brighten up the lofty rooms and empty spaces.

Flowers bloom and blossom in every free inch she can find.

The plants don't do as well. Hank tries his best to save them, cheerfully moving flowers around to make space for the foliage desperate for sunlight or my general attention, and he looks disappointed when I refuse to tell them good morning or good night. Kerrie laughs as she trails behind him, offering baked goods and sweet desserts. She brings me things she's made or purchased, the softest of all sweaters for a tiny child, and knitted booties so small I would think they'd fit a squirrel.

My brothers and sisters flit in and out of another house where they feel comfortable crashing. Wesley and Leif spend a lot of time on the third floor, daring each other to go farther and farther into the dark and informing me I look better pregnant than not. Paisley and Holly resume trying on my clothes, borrowing my shoes, and slyly informing me they saw Eric's shirts while demanding to know if I was still sleeping with him.

Zander is the one who finds his boots. I'd pushed them back into the corner of the closet, not wanting to minimize the proof he was here, but fully aware some might not understand it. After all, from the stories they'd heard, he wasn't the hero of my dreams in any version. His good deeds from earlier were dashed by what happened in Erudite, and while a very forgiving faction, suspicions still ran high.

Forrest was wary of even the idea of him, and he told me so, while holding his teething son and asking if I had any ice.

"I know you think he's all, dark and mysterious. But dark and mysterious isn't what you need. Maybe…maybe you should start hanging out with Dale. He's really freaking boring. The most exciting thing that's happened to him is he fell off a tractor the other day."

I threw Forrest the dirtiest look I could muster, and I went back to folding the tiny clothes that had appeared on my porch. The boxes were delivered by someone from the fields. They knocked, vanished before I could thank them, and I was left with several large packages containing anything and everything my child might need.

The first was from Daniel and Camille. It held all kinds of soft, but oddly formal clothing. Books. Blankets. A few stuffed animals. A children's book of medical terminology. I could imagine their delight upon finding it, and it paired well with my delight upon discovering it was sent from Daniel and his assistant, not Daniel and his wife.

The second box was from his wife, or ex-wife if Camille's name attached to Daniel was proof enough, and it contained all sorts of items I dumped directly into the garbage. Clothes meant to look like I was sending a newborn to work in a laboratory –not from Blythe, of course, but from her associates who heard she was having a grandchild. A stack of blank notecards, already pre-addressed so I could thank them. A book on raising a child as a single mother and the struggles I should expect. I rolled my eyes at that one, for she must have forgotten I was still married to Eric, and last and most insulting, a DNA kit with a letter stating she expected both the baby and me to take it as soon as he or she was born.

I hated her.

I hated her so much it felt unreal. I wished I could write Return to sender on the box, but I took greater joy in throwing everything except the thank you cards away. I figured I could at least thank her friends, or forced work acquaintances, and call it a day.

Other gifts followed, and each one made my eyes widen.

Dark black clothing and small black boots.

A onesie, with the words Greatest Godfather Alive printed in white.

Another onesie, with the words RYLAN RULES printed in blue.

Toys, all sharp and dangerous looking.

A bag of things from Tris and Four, both apologetic at not coming to see me, but very happy for me. There was an extra note from Four, pressed in between layers of clothes for winter, tucked away just for me to see. It was surprisingly nice, and duly informative.

It stated all charges had been dropped against him, something which he believed was my work, and that he'd taken a position with the leaders as a defense specialist. Since he knew the ins and outs of the factionless, it would be helpful to have him watching to make sure nothing else went on behind the scenes. He hinted, in sloppy writing and what appeared to be a rush to finish this note before anyone saw it, Max insisted eventually, Four would take on a leadership position.

He also informed me he was expecting a child, and under no circumstances did he expect our children to be friends or was I obligated to invite them over.

That was a little strange, but I chalked it up to Tris not really liking me, or maybe Christina declaring our children would be friends and there was no other option even if Tris thought otherwise.

Today's gift is from Arlene, and Eric watches me open it with a scowl.

"Don't. She probably put a tracker in the packaging," he sneers, looking up from the dinner he's making. It smells good, something Italian I've never had before, and complicated.

Last night, I'd made scrambled eggs. He raised an eyebrow at me, but I was so tired he was lucky I didn't just throw some toast at his head and call it a night. If the baby wasn't keeping me up at night by kicking at my ribs and demanding I turn over, Eric was. My sleep was interrupted every night he showed up, and I spent more of my nights just being with him, listening to the sound of his heart beating or feeling his chest rise and fall, than I did actually sleeping.

Him splitting his time is the lousiest solution to this dilemma ever.

It was the best he could come up with. He finished whatever he needed to in Dauntless, then came here. Every time I saw him, it was like we had been apart for ages. When he left, I felt like someone was stabbing me, though that could have been the baby kicking my internal organs.

I could easily ask Eric to take me back to Dauntless, but every so often, I panicked at the thought. I panicked thinking perhaps he didn't really want to be a father, for he rarely spoke of our child past pressing his hand to my stomach or asking if I felt okay, and he was fairly aloof. Lost in his own thoughts, or quiet, reading a book beside me or trying to convince me he could bring a TV here for me to watch.

But mostly quiet. He'd always been quiet, but this was a different kind of quiet.

Like he was stuck agonizing over his mistakes, and sometimes being with me was a visible reminder of them.

Still, he showed up almost nightly, and left in the mornings. He stayed longer when he chose not to go in to work, and it spread through the Amity community very slowly that he was trying to make amends. The Leader of Dauntless living here half the time raised a few eyebrows, but with our own leader being from Dauntless, it wasn't completely unheard of.

At least, not unheard of enough for someone to say anything to me.

"She sent me…a bunch of thermometers? How do I use these? It's just a button?" I hold the box up in the air, and Eric looks at me from the stove. His eyes flash with disbelief, then he returns to cooking the noodles.

"It's digital. Do you have any medical care here? Are you planning on having the baby in a barn?"

"No, I thought I'd have him in the lake. I read water births are a relaxing way to welcome a child into the world. Very peaceful, according to some lady named Serena." I set the package down, grinning as Eric counts to a very high number in his head. "Is that not what you pictured?"

"No, it's not close to what I pictured at all. None of this is."

I ignore his sulky glare, and I resume unpacking all the things Arlene thought I would need. More blankets, information packets on all the doctors in Erudite and their contact numbers, with almost every single one highlighted, and a suggestion note to go tour the Erudite hospital. There are socks, diapers, information on the Dauntless daycare center, and a final envelope which makes my chest tighten.

"Everly, do you want salad? I can make one if you want. May said she dropped off some vegetables for you."

I can't answer him. His words are insane, spoken so casually like Eric Coulter lived here, and routinely cooked a dinner while I watched. He keeps talking, asking if I want tomatoes or if I knew Forrest was on my front porch, and oh good, so was Rylan, and Jason, and Four.

And who the fuck invited Four, and even better, why does he have Tris with him.

Christina.

His father.

I look up when he goes to open the door, and my fingers touch the letters on the heavy black card, pressing against numbers below one very important title.

Arlene's note said she and Max wanted to make sure I was compensated for my time in Dauntless, as well as my time in Erudite, and everyone in the faction eagerly awaited my return.

I blink as Daniel heads through the doorway, and his eyes find mine. They move straight to my stomach and his jaw drops slightly, as I shove the card back in the envelope to look at later. Daniel looks stunned to find I'm much farther along than anyone thought, and I wonder if he'd be proud of the title I'd just been assigned.

_Everly Coulter, Dauntless Ambassador to the Factions._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!


	28. The Final Days of Amity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!

The world doesn't catch fire, but my stove does.

"Eric! It's burning!"

I tear my stare away from Daniel to see Eric glaring at his father with fierce hatred. It seems his time in the Erudite hospital hadn't exactly brought them closer together. It might have been Eric's abrupt departure or his complete disregard for any and all follow up instructions, but whatever the case may be, it's clear they haven't seen each other until now.

I nearly drop the card when Daniel walks closer, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Everly, are you…when is your due date?"

The great thing about having a lot of people very invested in your life, is that there are plenty of distractions. Before I can answer him, or ponder what exactly my title in Dauntless means, Rylan rushes past to help Eric. There is a duck shoved in the pocket of his jacket, peeking out to watch as Daniel's attention moves from me to the stove, and Jason loudly greets Forrest. Leif and Wesley show up at the same time, with my mother, Harrison, and Hank and Kerrie. The fire only grows larger as Eric glares at everyone, and the careful secret of him and me is exposed.

Much like my lack of functional smoke detectors.

"Everly, did anyone inspect this place? I thought I sent Joe to check it out." Harrison ignores the literal kitchen on fire as he climbs onto a chair to toy with something high up on the wall, and he pulls it apart with a grimace. "Shit. The batteries are dead. He swore he was an electrician. And an EMT."

"I don't know who Joe is, but no one came by," I answer, and the chaos continues. I feel exhausted watching it all, then sort of queasy as the smoke burns higher. "Um, Eric our dinner is burning."

"I've got it handled," Eric hisses, and he glares at his father hard enough to make him frown. "Why are you here? No one invited you."

"Eric!" I gasp this at the same time Rylan does, but for different reasons.

The flames reach a whole new level, and Eric merely raises an eyebrow in mild annoyance.

"Um, is anyone going to stop this before Everly's house burns down? And why is Eric here? I mean, it's good to see you, Eric. Nothing but love for you, my only brother in law, except for that I heard you tried to murder Everly. You're lucky she's so forgiving." Forrest throws Eric a nod, and he looks at me. "Wait, Everly, are you pregnant?"

"No, I'm not, Forrest. Thank you for asking." I answer sarcastically, stepping away with a shriek as Rylan dumps water all over whatever is burning, and it only makes things worse. "Oh my gosh, what are you doing?! Just move the pan!"

"I'm saving you, EVERLY!" Rylan loudly proclaims, and Jason laughs so hard he drops his phone. "Jason, stop recording this and try to help us!"

"ERIC!"

The party isn't quite complete yet.

Zander arrives with Paisley and Holly, and they stare in pure horror as everyone clamors to see what's going on. Paisley is shoved out of the way as Zander makes a beeline for Eric, and in an act of heroic adoration, he throws himself right in the middle of things.

"Zander, come here, buddy! Let them put the fire out," Hank tries to coax him back, but everyone shrieks when Rylan's prophecy comes true.

The toaster explodes.

Out of nowhere.

Someone must have gotten it wet, or maybe the house really is haunted, because it bursts into flames on cue, and Rylan and Eric both freeze, staring in pure and utter horror as the crowded room becomes far more frantic than the time Landon showed up with his army.

I actually think that might have been less chaotic than right now.

I stare at my toaster, lit up like a fiery inferno, and I try very hard not to look at Rylan.

I fail.

"I told you so. I told you the wires were crossed," Rylan looks right at me, and I decide I'll skip dinner and just go to bed.

"Please leave. All of you." I announce right as Willow shows up, and she looks around in sheer horror.

She clutches Woody to her chest tightly as she backs away slowly, right into May.

"What is going on? Is everyone okay?"

No one answers her, but most importantly, no one leaves.

No one even bothers to listen to a word I'm saying, because the fire is finally put out, and every single person in my kitchen decides they're staying for dinner.

The dinner, a lovely arrangement of everything and anything that could be made quickly, is overwhelming.

Everyone is crowded around two tables shoved together, and nothing is more Amity than everyone here, sharing a meal.

Except for Eric's father, doing his best to convince me to come stay in Erudite for a few weeks.

"I just think having the baby in Erudite would be good for you. We have the most advanced facility out of all the factions. Nothing can go wrong there. You could get some rest, relax, I could clear the whole floor for you," Daniel insists, and he graciously accepts a bowl of salad from my mother. "Not to mention, we reinforced all the emergency exits so no one can leave."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of an emergency exit?" Harrison sits across from me, by my mother. Next to him is Four, looking understandably overwhelmed, and Tris, looking understandably uncomfortable. She glances around a few times, and every so often, our eyes meet and she looks away. It's like she's afraid I'll leap across the table and smack her, though I have no reason to. "Maybe you should see what your fancy little hospital would do if it caught fire?"

"Oh, like here? Where everything is…made of wood and incredibly flammable? There isn't even a fire extinguisher!"

"Daniel," Camille, having shown up right after Willow, elbows him. Unlike the dinner with Blythe when Daniel sat quiet, Camille isn't sitting silently. She'd been incredibly helpful since she showed up. She helped recook dinner, she, my mother and Kerrie set the table, and she'd carefully listened to Daniel talk while also carefully eating the meal before her.

Everyone, except for Rylan, was concerned if it had peace serum in it.

It didn't, but I was regretting that decision. I've never been one to want to drink peace serum, but everyone here is making me feel anxious. I stare at their faces, one by one, and I swear the dining room is ten times smaller than it was.

"He means well, Everly. I think after everything that's gone on, everyone is just very worried about you and Eric. And what could happen, if you give birth here."

"What's wrong with giving birth here?" My mother looks at Camille with as much insult as one would expect from her. "Willow just had a baby here and they're both fine. We have an excellent birthing staff."

"Oh, um I'm sorry. Congratulations. Has…. has your baby seen a doctor since…he was born?" Camille stares at Willow, eating while Woody sleeps in her arms, and she looks stunned. "You had him here? How?"

"Well, I just went into labor and so I went to see Eden. How else do you have a baby?" Willow looks at Forrest, and he shakes his head.

"You did fine. In Erudite, some people believe you need medical intervention for everything. Even for things like the common cold. Or a broken leg," Forrest scoffs, and even Kerrie nods. "You could have given birth anywhere. The woods. Or the barn. It's warm. The horses do it all the time."

"See," I look at Eric, and his expression is so hilarious I have a hard time not laughing.

Our private bubble of being in this house, alone, is momentarily gone. Eric sits at the head of one table, staring at everyone in complete horror. His friends are not far away from him, both cheerfully eating the pizza my mother made, and taking turns insulting the others choice of toppings. Leif and Wesley sit at another table, with Paisley and Holly, and they all watch Jason and Rylan in rapt fascination.

Zander sits with Harrison, and every so often, he waves from his pile of noodles, completely content with everyone talking all at once.

"You are not giving birth in a barn," Eric hisses, and his words attract the attention of Four. Four laughs, quietly, into the sandwich he's eating, and he does his best to avoid Eric's glare. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say something funny, Number Boy?"

"I thought you two were friends now," I look at Four in confusion, and they both turn to me in sheer horror. "What, I thought you forgave him? Or did you take it back? Because Peter said Four –"

"I never forgive anyone," Eric reminds me, and he reaches for the drink Forrest poured him. I stare at the tall glass, and I try to stop him before he takes a sip.

"I wouldn't drink that. Forrest made it and it's –"

"Absolutely delicious. Made with the finest wheat Amity has to offer. How do you like it? Everly is a complete hater, but she can't have any anyway, since she failed to tell anyone she was pregnant." Forrest crosses his arms over his chest, and he stares daggers at me. "I thought we were close. You were my favorite sister."

"Hey!" Both Paisley and Holly protest, but they lose interest when May hands them a plate of garlic bread.

"I thought you would have figured it out by now. Or maybe when my dresses stopped fitting." I smile brightly at him, and Rylan laughs so hard he spills his drink. "That's not funny. I had to go buy this one today."

"It's great. You look really nice," Rylan eyes me with disapproval. "Did you have fun at the Salem witch trials?"

"Rylan!" Christina looks horrified, and somewhere, May informs Rylan he has to give the duck back. His answer of never is quiet, and I predict he'll fight her for the duck.

Little does he know, he'll probably lose.

"It's just…very…you know, in Dauntless, she had clothes that didn't look like they were made from haunted fabric." He pauses, and he scoots his chair further away from May. "Lots of clothes. I got to help carry them upstairs."

"Eric likes my dress. He said it was nice," I retort, and Eric chokes on his beer, again. "That's what you said earlier!"

"Okay, well we all know he's a liar," Rylan grabs another piece of pizza and looks at Four. "Hey, Four, can I throw you and Tris a baby shower? Christina and I were thinking it would be fun. Tris is pregnant, Everly. If you come to Dauntless, your baby can be friends with her baby. If Eric allows that."

"I won't," Eric scowls, and my mother listens with the hint of a smile on her face.

"Ever?"

"No!" He scowls again, but everyone ignores him in favor of staring at Tris, busy eating her salad. She looks different than I remember, less severe and exhausted, and it is clear her pregnancy is going as favorably as mine.

At least she was with Four for most of it.

She finally looks at Four, then me, and her eyes are wide. "He didn't help Peter. He just told him he was turning off the cameras. A team followed him for a while, but he sat parked at the edge of the forest forever. They sort of forgot about him. Kacie got in major trouble for it."

"Everly –" Four starts to say my name, sounding just as apologetic as Tris, but he's cut off by Christina.

"Tris, can we? I've been wanting to ask you!" Christina brightens up, and this is the first time I've seen her happy since she got here. She'd been very quiet while all the chaos went on, and oddly quiet when my mother showed her where to sit. I got the feeling she thought I was mad at her, but I'm not.

I'd been looking forward to a second alone so I could say hello.

"No." Four answers flatly, and when Tris elbows him, he shakes his head. "No, thank you. We're fine. We don't need anything."

"Nothing at all?" My mother stares at him, and even Harrison looks concerned. "You must need something."

"He needs a lobotomy. That's what he needs," Eric mutters, but it's not as angry as one would think. "Just let Rylan throw you a baby shower. I've seen your apartment. It's bleak."

"You've been to Four's apartment?" I stare at Eric, still choking down Forrest's beer, and he closes his eyes tightly. "I thought you weren't friends."

"We aren't. I was sent to get him so he could meet with Max," Eric resumes looking annoyed, and his stare goes all the way to Leif and Wesley, trying to coax Rylan to hand over the duck. "When he opened the door, I got to see the blandness in which he lives."

"Sounds…very nice," my mother busies herself with feeding her children, and encouraging Zander to eat something other than noodles. She gives up when he answers with a parroted version of Rylan's never, and next to her, Kerrie asks about planting lavender in her garden.

They talk for a second, and everyone lapses into smaller, less intense conversations. Forrest forgives me for not telling him I'm pregnant, and I forgive him for being completely unobservant. Rylan does challenge May to a fight, winner takes all –including Indiana Duck, and to my relief, Harrison informs him a duck won't survive in Dauntless, no matter how chill it is. Leif and Wesley leave the minute they're done eating, Hank and Kerrie talk to Tris and Four about all the things they'll need for a baby, and Christina, Paisley and Holly talk about where the clothing in Dauntless comes from.

I listen to all of it go on around me, and I startle when Eric touches my hand.

It's quick.

No one is looking at us or paying any attention, especially not when Zander tips over an entire bowl of pasta sauce, and no one even blinks when we both stand up.

They're assuming we're going to grab something to clean it up. Jason even yells for us to grab him another napkin, and I catch him laughing as Zander dips his noodle in the sauce all over the table.

"Hey, will you grab me a drink, too! Zander just spilled mine!"

We don't.

Instead, we leave them at the table, and head right out the back door.

The night air is still cold.

The days are not.

In fact, they're warming up enough to hint the next round of initiation will soon start up in a few months. No one in my family is eligible, but there's an ominous feeling in the air, like something big is about to happen. It makes me nervous, but not as nervous as the cramping feeling across my stomach as Eric leads me away from the house.

We walk around the black porch, down equally black steps, and into the night. The few homes nearby are lit up with a warm glow, and every so often, there's the sound of the woods, not at all far away. Eric's head tilts at the noise, and I know he's thinking the same thing I am.

Dauntless is quiet.

Very quiet.

Secluded enough it would be hard for all these people to show up.

"Where are we going?"

I navigate carefully down a few steps, and Eric's hand doesn't leave mine. He holds on tightly, fingers slid between my own, and he turns to help me step down further, into the garden that is not mine. It's wild; feral flowers grown from wind and rain and bright sunlight, hidden between the houses. Eric stops halfway, and he looks at me carefully.

"Do you feel okay?"

"I feel fine, I swear." I have to crane my head to look up at him, and he's frowning. "What's wrong? Is it…everyone who stayed for dinner? Or did Harrison say something to you?"

He frowns further.

Harrison is a sore subject for Eric, mostly because everything is still unresolved between them. They weren't outright ignoring each other, but they mostly steered clear, unwilling to admit they both were worried what the other was doing. I know Eric had little choice in how he dealt with Jeanine, and it made it all the worse knowing had he protested the second he walked in the room, I more than likely would have died. Harrison knew what Eric did and why, but he hadn't exactly forgotten what he'd walked into.

They were both trying to make it right by being the one who would finally keep me safe, and in turn, they each disliked what the other was doing.

"Do you really want to live here? You really want to stay in a faction you hated, just because there are…ducks and a lot of people who can make dinner?" Eric's eyes find mine, dark and heavy. "I can make you dinner."

"I know you can," I start, and he bites down on his cheek. "You want me to leave with you, don't you? Before the baby is born."

He cocks his head, the piercing in his eyebrow catching the low light from the house, and I watch him slowly pick the words he thinks will convince me to leave.

"I want you to come back with me. I don't want you to stay here anymore. Not only is it not safe, it's far. If something happens while I'm in Dauntless, I might not be here."

"What are you thinking is going to happen?" I step closer, reaching up to touch his shirt. It's black, and he looks down at me with a hint of impatience. "Was it the barn thing? That pushed you over the edge, didn't it?"

"Yes."

His answer is flat, half snarled and half hissed in exasperation. This time hasn't been kind to Eric. He's balanced both trying to deal with everything in Dauntless and coming to see me, but it was starting to wear on him. Throw in three fathers, all wanting to tell him what he was doing wrong, enough family members to make anyone's head spin, and I couldn't blame him for being in a bad mood.

Our world, quiet and just us, had come to a grinding halt with the realization we'd have to live somewhere.

The problem was each faction was hoping it was with them.

"And you think I'm trapped? That I can't leave if I want to?"

"I think Harrison wants you to stay because he can keep you safe and I couldn't, and you don't want to upset him. I think your mother wants you to stay, and so does everyone else in your family. But I don't think you actually enjoy living here. I know you don't. I think you want to leave, but you don't know how to say it." Eric says this triumphantly, and I know he's planned whatever is coming. "If you told Harrison you wanted to move to Dauntless, what would he say? No?"

"I don't know. I never went through initiation in Dauntless, and I didn't even finish the one here. If I go to Dauntless, I'm showing up as someone who got pregnant and –"

"You'd be showing up as my wife. I'll marry you in front of the faction. Give me two weeks. You can live there, with me, and I'll take care of everything. I'll give you whatever title you want. Just...say yes." He stares, and behind me, something croaks in the distance.

I consider this, and I wonder if he knows about the card Arlene sent.

"Now is the part where you say yes," he stares at me darkly, and he looks incredibly out of place amongst the flowers.

"Are you…are you proposing to me?" I watch his expression turn unamused, and I struggle not to smile. "I already told you I accepted your proposal. And, in case you've forgotten, I'm pretty sure we're still married."

"We are," he informs me flatly, and the romance is hidden beneath the scowl on his face. "So, come back to Dauntless. Where you belong. I'm sick of explaining why my wife lives in Amity."

"Eric," I say his name quietly, and his grip tightens. "I don't think –"

"Are you saying no?" He interrupts, looking visibly nauseous. "You're really going to stay here?"

My future hangs in the air.

It sways back and forth with these tempting, but not really, offers from both sides. Staying in Amity, a faction I'd made known I didn't belong in, was as safe as Harrison could make it. Political stance aside, he'd made his own army, cleaned up the faction, and would make sure no one hurt me. I had all my family here and then some. I would have help and support, my child could grow up as part of a happy, and accepting community, and I wouldn't lack a babysitter ever.

The downside to Amity was I'd never belonged here. I didn't want to raise a child amongst farm animals, nor did I want everyone knowing my business or dropping by to tell me I should marry some random farmer for the sake of my child.

Dauntless came with its own concerns. Sure, I had paperwork saying I lived there. I had a card with an official title, and if Eric announced I belonged there, no one would outright question him. I would have freedom, room for growth both personal and in whatever path I chose, and I would feel less stuck. But it is dark and dangerous, less welcoming than where I am now, and far more foreboding. I am more likely to wind up dead by tripping down the stairs or taking a wrong turn into nothingness.

But Dauntless has Eric, and Amity does not.

The thought of being away from him hurts. I'd spent weeks staring at his name in my phone, daring myself to press call. Weeks thinking of him, wondering if he was thinking of me. Days when the thought of him and I together was all that kept me going. I wasn't willing to throw this away, especially not if it meant going there with the opportunity to be a valuable member.

"Okay, but you have to be there when I tell Harrison. You have to promise him this is it. There are no more secrets." I look up at Eric's face, carved from years of hard work and emotional repression, and the relief cracks his façade ever so slightly. He relaxes, his shoulders untensing as he moves closer, trying to close the distance between us.

It proves impossible, but like I was finding out, nothing is impossible with him.

"We'll tell him tonight." I find it hard to breathe suddenly, the idea of leaving here again, to go home with Eric a reality. "Before he goes home. Do you promise you won't keep anything else from me? The stuff about Ashley or…whatever else you work on?"

"I promise there is nothing else," Eric insists, and his eyes flit over me, back to the house. "I'll tell Harrison whatever you want, but he was pretty angry the last time we spoke."

"I think he'll be okay with it if it's what I want. I think he'll…he'll…" I stop talking, and I can't get another word out. The rush of pain is sharp, an attack on my insides, more violent than anything I've ever felt.

"He'll what? Everly?" Eric lets go, but he grabs me by the arms to pull me closer, and his grip is tight. "What's wrong?"

I say nothing.

I can't actually speak. I wait for the pain to stop, the feeling close to what I'd felt a few days ago but far more intense, and it doesn't.

It leaves me desperately trying to breathe, willing myself to relax.

It doesn't work.

Nothing works.

"Everly!" Eric barks at me, knowing something is wrong. The look on his face is pure, unadulterated fear and he attempts to get me to walk a step. I shove him away, and when I can stand up again, the relief lasts a mere few seconds.

It returns like a wave, strong enough to push me beneath it.

"Are you sick? Are you going to throw up?"

I might.

I feel everything in me tense up again, until it hurts so bad that my eyes are forced closed, and I dig my nails into the skin of his arm. He lets me, and he's just as pale as the moon when I manage to grit out would he please go get my mother.

He listens.

He takes off, leaving me standing amongst wildflowers, cursing his name.

Turns out, Willow was right to tell me not to go through with it. At the height of the pain, I realize I dislike Eric just as much as Willow disliked Forrest.

The feeling of labor is not something I am prepared for.

By the time I realized what was going on, right in the middle of dreamy flowers and a swirling, starry sky, I was swearing so loud a neighbor wandered out to see what was wrong. My water broke, effectively ruining the dress I'd just bought, and my lack of medical care bit me in the ass when I discovered I was further along than I thought.

I'd ignored a lot of the lesser symptoms while I was pretending I was tired. Stressed. Caving to the pressure of trying to live my life in Amity without dying, yet also while proving I could fit in in the Dauntless faction. I'd explained away a headache, exhaustion, lightheadedness, but I couldn't explain away the nausea. The never-ending ebb and flow of emotions, ranging from believing I was strong, to thinking I was weak. I couldn't ignore the feeling of the baby kicking, often choosing nighttime to remind me of his or her presence, and I couldn't ignore the way my clothes started to fit funny.

I most certainly couldn't ignore the waves of razor-sharp unbearableness, not even when my mother and Camille and Kerrie and Willow showed up. For a brief second, when the pain lulled enough for me to stand up, I looked at all of them, their faces wrought with concern, and I knew I would be fine.

In that moment, I knew everything would be okay.

I might not make it to Erudite, like Daniel had been insisting not more than thirty minutes ago.

I might not make it to Dauntless, like Eric had so carefully planned and insisted upon.

I might not even make it more than a dozen steps into my own home, but I would survive this.

I would prove everyone and everything wrong, because it was clear there was no more waiting around.

Half an hour later, not in a barn or a fancy hospital, not even in the Amity birthing center or clean and efficient facility in Candor, or anywhere with emergency exits, I give birth to my son.

He looks just like Eric.

There's an unfairness to having carried him for nine months, enduring months of feeling like utter garbage, only to have him look like his father. His hair is the same shade of dark blonde, his eyes are light, and he came into the world with the same collision-like force Eric came into mine.

I barely made it upstairs. Once my mother realized what was going on, she instructed me to try and follow her. My options were to make it inside or give birth in the garden. I chose to keep walking, and it helped lessen the pain for a few minutes. By the time I reached my own house, I decided everything was a mistake. Telling Eric my name was a mistake, kissing him was a mistake, and not climbing off of him when he said I should was a definite mistake.

I probably looked like a lunatic once I got to the dining room, stumbling past the dinner table with everyone still eating, and announcing I was fine, I just needed to change. My mother and Kerrie hurried after me, and Camille followed. She was torn between telling Daniel what was going on and helping with the birth. Daniel had taken a phone call out front, Jason loudly announcing he was talking to someone named Greg, and Greg was calling with a pressing issue, and no one answered him. We all knew Daniel would more than likely insist we head to Erudite this second, and I bet he'd even drive me there himself.

But I couldn't.

By the time I got to my room, I knew it wouldn't be long. The contractions were so intense they felt manic, and the wave of euphoria that followed was a high I never knew existed. By the time Eric made it upstairs, his boots clomping up the steps and shrieks of everyone at the table following him, it was almost over. My mother shoved him up by my head, telling him to be quiet and not move unless someone told him to, and his protest was ignored completely. He tried to take my hand in his, but the movement made me feel sick all over again.

I eventually shoved him away, ignoring the flash of hurt, but a moment later, our son was born. He was immediately given to me, small and warm and wailing, and placed right on my chest. He cried until he looked up at me, his face red and scrunched up in fury at being cold and evicted from his former home, but he stopped crying when I touched his head.

For a brief second, it was like being in the simulation again. I wasn't so sure he was real. He was larger than I would have imagined possible, and angry over the cold air, the hands carefully wiping off his face and checking on him, and the teary gasps of how adorable he is.

My mother looked proud, her eyes wet when she saw he was just fine and healthy as ever, so did Willow. She flat out bawled like she was the one who had given birth, holding Woody even tighter and quietly telling me I had done great.

Kerrie cried, too.

The only person not crying was Camille. She was busy frantically trying to figure out how to perform her normal, Erudite hospital worthy newborn infant check in a bedroom with no medical equipment. She looked annoyed when the best she could do was accept some towels from Forrest, and behind him, was a crowd of family members and friends waiting to see what was going on.

I rated my own birthing ten out of ten stars.

What followed was not at all what I was expecting. There was more to giving birth than I had remembered, and everyone seemed far more prepared than I was. Eric watched silently, his skin pale and his eyes fixed on the baby, and he barely moved when someone asked him to help. I was dimly aware of him being instructed to cut the baby's umbilical cord, and someone helped move my dress so I could hold the baby closer. Eric's motions were slow, careful and precise, and when I finally looked at him, he stared back.

I wasn't entirely sure what he thought, not at first. I could feel the mess of my hair as it fell in my eyes and out of the quick bun Kerrie had put it in. My dress was askew, having been pulled up and down, and my feet were bare. I held onto the baby tighter, giving in to the surrealness of all this, and I saw it.

Eric looked at me, not at all unlike the nights when I'd looked up at him with what felt like all the hope in my heart, and I saw his world shift.

The leader of our most violent faction had been through hell and back over these past few months, and here was his chance at redemption. He'd been serving his time on his own; he'd paid a penance only he knew, by doing the absolute best he could and staying in a faction he loathed. He'd made me a priority at the risk of his own faction falling apart, or it being made known he wasn't exactly adhering to the factional code he once lived by.

I saw all of this on his face, pale and pained, at the exact moment he decided he wasn't returning to Dauntless alone, nor was I staying here alone.

His lips parted, his black shirt standing out against the pale colors of everyone else, and he tilted his head. There was a lot in his stare: pride at my giving birth without anything to help, and fear, that I would be hurt or that something would happen. Horror, as there was more blood than either of us were prepared for, and ultimately, a sense of contentment that existed in him in some hidden, ignored space in his chest.

His eyes moved from my face, to his son, to my hands cradling him. When Camille finally thanked him, gently insisting someone should check on me, he walked over. Eric sat down on the bed beside me, and he said nothing.

He simply stared at our son, and I knew nothing would ever be the same again.

"He looks like you," I look up at him, feeling deliriously invincible. The pain from earlier is gone, except for a dull ache in my abdomen and a powerful urge to curl up and go to sleep. What's left is a rush of adrenaline, the feeling like I could conquer the world, and my body wanting to rest after giving birth. "What do you think?"

I wait for Eric to say something, but he's quiet. He finally reaches out and very gently touches the baby's head. His hand seems impossibly large by comparison, and I swear no one moves when we all wait for him to answer.

"He does."

I add a few more stars to the rating system when Eric leans in, shifting to move both of us closer. My mother whispered when I felt better, I could get up and take a shower, and the rest of them busied themselves with cleaning up. They gave us privacy, slipping out to grab some tea and yelping what sounded an awful lot like Harrison's name, and I sink against Eric when the door shuts and my mother informs me she'll be back to help clean up the baby, too.

My face presses against Eric's chest, and he moves his hand to touch my cheek.

"Did you know…did you know he was…it was today…?"

His words are jumbled; the eloquence I'd seen in his rousing speeches to Dauntless is gone as he fumbles with the tangible proof of his feelings for me. Our son looks up at him, blinking the same indifferent stare in his direction, and Eric's lips turn up in the most impressed smile.

"He's bigger than I thought he would be." Eric looks down at me, and I would kill to know what he's thinking. Was he expecting our child to be my size, or worse, that perhaps he'd have a child he didn't know what to do with? I can see his mind whirling as he stares, thinking of all the things he can teach his son.

If he can get him to Dauntless.

"Do you want to hold him?" I start to ask, but Camille quietly returns, asking if she can clean him up. I agree reluctantly, not really ready to give him to someone else.

"Let me just get the blood off him. We'll get both of you cleaned up and then you can get back in bed." She pauses, and her eyes lock on Eric. "I'm sure you've already guessed, but your father is about to lose his mind downstairs. I don't know how much longer I can keep him from coming up here. He'd like to take Everly and the baby to Erudite."

"I don't think she wants to go to Erudite," Eric answers, but his words tell me he does. "Though it would be good for both of them."

He side eyes me, and I shake my head pleadingly. The decision is mine, but I want him to support me on this. There is no need to go anywhere else. I'm fine and our son is fine. The house is warm and quiet, and we're already here. Not to mention, I'm too tired, and I now have a valid excuse to kick everyone out of my house.

"I'll tell him you're alright," Camille reaches for the baby, and I have to admit, the thought of taking a shower and climbing right back into bed sounds heavenly.

Luck is on my side again.

Twenty minutes later, Camille finishes helping me brush out my hair for the second time. She helps pull the nightgown over my head, and she quietly explains what to expect now that I've given birth. I listen in rapt horror, and I decide the minute I can, I will sign myself up for every shot in the world if it means never having to do this again.

She and I leave the bathroom together, her dark blue shirt bright against the wooden walls, and she tells me almost everyone who doesn't live here has been kicked out by Harrison. She asks if I'm okay to have Daniel come up and see his grandson, but I don't answer her.

I don't know what to say.

I pause to memorize the sight before me.

Eric sits on my bed, holding his son in his arms with a funny look on his face. For a brief moment, I think he's going to leave. The baby, still unnamed, is small compared to him. He hadn't felt small while I was giving birth, but he's miniscule compared to his father. Eric stares at him with narrowed eyes, and before he realizes I'm watching, he very delicately brushes his son's hair to the side.

When he looks up at me, having finally realized I'm watching him, I decide neither of us will leave Amity for a while.

Daniel is very calm and collected.

At least, as calm and collected as he can pretend to be.

He sits on the edge of my bed, holding his grandson in his arms, grinning down like he's not trying to give him a medical exam at the same time. He mimics Eric's actions from earlier by touching his hair, and he smiles at the blue pajamas and the matching blue blanket Camille found. I didn't have the heart to tell him the pajamas were the last ones I'd unpacked, and probably the first pair she'd found.

Still, he holds him with great pride, and he smiles warmly at me.

Until he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

"Can you please let me take you both to Erudite? I can have Greg get everything ready. Just a few days, maybe four or five. It's very quiet and no one will bother you. We have a wonderful staff and I would just…there are some tests that should be done to make sure everything is fine."

"Thank you for the offer, really," I lean into Eric's side, safely hidden half behind him. Eric glances down at me, and to think that hours ago, I was planning on taking his shirt and pants off and doing the absolute opposite of giving birth. "I think we're okay. Camille said she'd stay here tonight, and you can, too. I don't really want to go anywhere."

"Are you sure?"

The disappointment is heartwarming.

Daniel looks crushed, perhaps having had high hopes of his grandchild being born in his own hospital, but he eventually relents when I yawn, and my head finds Eric's chest.

"Alright, well…Camille and I will stay. I'll have Greg on standby anyway." He pauses, moving to push his glasses up, before he smiles even wider. "Have you picked out a name yet?"

"We haven't really talked about it," I confess, and Eric shrugs in confirmation. We'd never once spoken about what we'd name our child, but for the life of me, I couldn't think of anything that felt right. My assumption is Eric will want something strong sounding. Dangerous, even. I have no real preference over how deadly the name sounds, and my only real concern is anyone thinking I'm about to name him after something in Amity.

"You have time," Daniel grins again, and he frowns when his phone rings. "I'll hand him back now. It's Camille's assistant. I was supposed to be back hours ago."

"Are you leaving?" Eric stares up at his father as Daniel hands me the baby, and I wait for Daniel to tell him yes. Despite him saying he'd stay, we both knew his position in Erudite often won over everything.

But his father shakes his head, and he looks the happiest I've ever seen him.

"No. I just have to tell Gilly this so she can cover for me."

He stands up to answer his phone, and I glance down at our son, barely noticing Daniel slip out the door. Eric pulls the two of us closer, sort of reclining us back so I can lie on him, and I've forgotten how good it feels to be close to him.

How warm he is.

How solid.

"Is he tired?"

Eric's words make my eyes open, and I look up at him. Camille had helped me nurse him right away, and it took some practice. I was confident in my ability to take care of him, but it was terrifying to know I was responsible for him.

"Yeah, I think so." I stare down at the baby's grey eyes and his sleepy expression. He looks exactly like Eric before Eric falls asleep, and his brows knit together when he begins to cry. It's clear he's over being awake and over having us look at him, and I nearly fall off Eric when I realize I have no crib for him. "There's nowhere for him to sleep."

"Jason and Rylan are building the baby furniture as we speak. They're also staying. Rylan came up here when you were in the shower. He's…both incredibly excited at having a godson and impressed at how quickly you recovered," Eric informs me, and he exhales heavily as he pulls me even closer. "He said he already claimed the third floor, and he'll move his stuff in later. Just…close your eyes. I'll make sure the baby doesn't fall."

"Okay," I agree readily, because I'm so tired I can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a logical argument over why Rylan can't live here.

My night had taken a turn of the extreme, but I have to say, it worked out pretty well in the end.

It works out even better when I do fall asleep, my cheek pressed against Eric's chest and his fingers in my hair, and so does our son. He falls asleep between us, dressed in fancy pajamas and a blue blanket, after one more grouchy cry.

I fall asleep holding onto him, while Eric holds onto both of us, and I'm so tired I don't even hear Rylan yell that he's finished the crib or that the closet door to his room has opened all by itself and he's going to need an old priest and a young priest.

The late morning feels early.

It feels even earlier when I slowly accept a cup of decaf coffee, scowling at the cheerfulness of everyone around me.

I wasn't expecting anyone to be here, but I'd forgotten Rylan had temporarily moved in. Now that I was awake, he and Jason offer up every single suggestion for a name they can think of.

The birth of their friend's son is a big deal, and it's elevated to crisis when we admit we still haven't thought of a name. My night was spent sleeping for a few hours, waking up to feed the baby, and falling back asleep before I could answer Eric's question of was I okay. It was a blur, but a good one. I had only gotten up out of bed because my mother made breakfast, and I walked down the stairs slowly, clutching the baby to my chest, half expecting half of Amity to be here.

To my surprise, there was only Rylan and Jason, and enough baby furniture to start my own store at the market.

"Lightning."

"Bandit."

"Wario. No, not Wario. Bowser."

"Wait, no. What about Eric Jr. or the more formal, His Majesty, Eric the Second?"

The options ran far and wide. Jason leaned toward the more supernatural, going as far as to suggest Fox, after some character on a show he'd been obsessing over who hunted aliens on the government's time. Rylan leaned toward anything that popped into his head, including a tribute to himself, Ryan.

"Without the L. There has to be a way to tell us apart."

"Do you and Christina want to have a baby?" I stared at him, his hair held back in place in a low bun tied with a piece of flower print fabric, and I had the feeling one of my sisters had tricked him into letting them do his hair. "Maybe not right now but…"

"Already securing the baby friends. Nice work, Everly. I like the way you think," Rylan winked. "Actually, it's a possibility. Christina and I quite often fu—"

"Would you like pancakes or waffles?" My mother interrupts him cheerfully, cutting him off before he could teach Zander a word he'd undoubtedly repeat endlessly. "Jason how about you?"

"I'm good with pancakes or whatever you're making. Thanks for even offering," Jason beams, trying to finish putting together some toy someone had sent. "Is Eric sleeping?"

"He's taking a shower." I glance upstairs, and the separation feels worlds apart, rather than a single floor apart.

It was the hormones.

I'd nearly cried when he got out of bed to get water and the feeling of abandonment lasted long after he returned, despite him pulling me back against his chest.

"Do you want me to go get him?" I half hope Jason says yes, but he shakes his head no, then freezes in place.

"I've got it. Vladimir. Half vampire, half Dauntless warrior."

They both turn to look at me, apparently in telepathic agreement, and I hold my son closer, like they might try to grab him and register the name before I could stop them. I finally shake my head no, and I fight off the urge to run back upstairs.

"Thank you for the…. interesting suggestions. I'll see what Eric thinks." I lie, not at all cheerfully, and I'm so tired I feel like I might fall asleep at the table. "Actually, I think I'm going to go back to bed."

"You should eat something. You had a long night and you barely ate dinner," my mother is insistent, and she sets down a plate of food in front of me. Her dress is pretty, and I stare at her in pure horror of thinking she'd had so many children and who on Earth convinced her that was a good idea. "Once you're done eating, you should go lie down. Harrison is coming over to see Eric."

"I should probably stay awake for that," I yawn, but the idea of sleep wins out. "Eric said Harrison was mad the last time they spoke."

"Well, he was…like most people who heard about what happened, it was a little shocking to hear Eric couldn't stop what was going on or explain why you were brought there." My mother lingers only to give Jason and Rylan their plates, and her words are oddly sharp. "He knows Eric is trying to make things right. Harrison blames himself for not catching it sooner."

"Well, I don't want them angry at each other. How can Harrison live here and be mad?" I ask a logical question, since Amity practically demands forgiveness, and the look on my mother's face is enough to tell me Harrison would stay mad as long as he wanted. "Fine. I'm eating and going back to bed."

"I'll take him when you're done," my mother returns to her cheery tone, and she sits down next to me. "Actually, why don't I hold him while you eat?"

"I'll hold him."

"Oh shit," Rylan blurts out, and he busies himself eating the pancakes and waffles combined. "Hey, Harrison. Fancy seeing you here. In your…daughter's house."

"Why are you two here? Aren't you supposed to be in Dauntless? Who's overseeing the faction?" Harrison is here. He smiles at me, his eyes dropping to his grandson, sound asleep in my arms, and he doesn't look mad at all. "Is Max there?"

"Max and Tori," Jason drinks his coffee with a wink, then shrugs. "Technically, Four is working, too. He left horrified at having so many people involved in anyone's life and threw himself into work. I think he may have volunteered to help out until Eric is back."

Everyone looks at me.

I hold the baby tighter, and I know what they want.

A confession of what will happen when the day comes when Eric's responsibility to his faction trumps being here.

"When is he supposed to be back?" I take a sip of my own coffee, and Harrison takes the seat on the other side of me. He waits patiently, and when our eyes meet, he smiles even wider. I hand him the baby, and he leans back to hold him.

Everyone watches silently.

Harrison's shirt is plaid, and it clashes terribly with the blue pajamas. His hair is messy, like he'd been walking around outside before coming here, and his boots are heavy. He looks like he belongs here, at home amongst a different kind of wild, especially when Zander shows up and makes a beeline for him.

Zander's expression is every storm that's ever come through here. He howls in a fit of rage at his father holding another child, this one small and more demanding of attention than Zander, and he shrieks when Harrison doesn't immediately hand him back. He's not even pacified by our mother insisting he stop yelling, and he yells louder when the baby starts crying.

"GET RID OF HIM!"

Zander yells at the top of his lungs, and his rage is nothing more than someone else getting attention he isn't. He's too little to understand the baby isn't taking his place, nor will he go on any of Zander's adventures for a long time. He keeps yelling until Rylan picks him up and distracts him by letting him pour syrup all over his plate.

Zander does so without blinking, never taking his stare off his father, then me.

"Everly, get rid of him!"

He drenches everything on Rylan's plate, including the toast and the muffin, in syrup.

"Thanks man, it looks good." Rylan takes the syrup away, and in an act of sheer bravery, he hands him his phone. "Look, I have a game you can play."

"No." Zander refuses, and his stare returns to me. "EVERLY! Take him outside!"

"He's a little baby, Zander. He's only a day old. He won't be here very long," I point out, and everyone's stare whips back to me. Harrison's, knowing and oddly calm, and Jason and Rylan's triumphant. Even my mother smiles, and I have a feeling they knew this was coming. "I mean, if I decide to go back to Dauntless."

"Did you make that decision?" Harrison holds his grandson closer, examining him for a second. "If you do leave, you can keep the house here. Come back and stay when Dauntless gets on your nerves. We'll keep it up for you."

"You wouldn't be mad?"

I stare back, wondering where all this came from. I'd spent my time in Amity mad he was in Dauntless, and my time in Dauntless mad he was in Amity. Now we were both in the same faction, and the only thing I could think of was how I wanted to be where Eric was.

Which made sense.

He was my husband, the father of my child, and he would eventually grow tired of all the back and forth.

So would I.

Which explains why when Harrison shakes his head no, lowly murmuring he'd come see his grandson wherever he lived, it feels like the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders.

"Are you tired? Did Jason call you? He said he was going back to Dauntless."

I balance myself on the edge of the bathtub, bleary as ever, holding the baby in my arms. I'm entertaining myself by watching Eric shave, and every so often, he looks at me through the mirror. There are a few moments of horror when I believe he's going to leave. He can't live in Amity forever, and I have no clue how long he can stay. Word has probably made its way back to Dauntless that his child has been born, but who knew what happened after that. Did he take time off? Was it laughable to think he'd want to be home with his child?

Would the others mock the very man in charge of their violent military for staying home with a newborn?

I have none of these answers. Only a paralyzing fear that if Eric does go back, even if it's just for a meeting or to grab something, the appeal of Dauntless will win out over the baby and me.

So far, our nights were proving interesting.

Our son was a great sleeper, but he woke up every few hours to eat. He cried loudly, proving he had taken after Eric when it came to patience, but he was so sweet looking it was hard to be annoyed. He'd blink away wet, angry tears the minute I picked him up, and he'd doze off the minute he was done eating. Eric woke up mostly to stay awake with me, but half the time, his own eyes closed, leaving me squished in between the middle of the two of them.

It wasn't at all awful. My mother had finally gone home, Harrison and Eric had talked, briefly, agreeing that Eric's job was now to take care of me and our son, and they came to the understanding that Eric wasn't doing anything behind anyone's back. My brothers and sisters had come by, demanding I name the baby whatever they came up with –Braxton, Nugget, Mark, Tony, or Zander, declared loudly after Zander finally came to terms with not being the youngest anymore, and if the baby was staying, then he should have Zander's name.

I shook my head at all of them, for none of them fit. I didn't have any particular name picked out, but whatever we chose, I wanted it to suit him.

Even now, I still can't pick anything. He sleeps in my arms, blissfully unaware of my theory that his father might tire of taking care of us, still nameless.

"He did call. He asked how you were, and if you were ready to leave. Dauntless is fine. Cara and Jack were there yesterday. They send their congratulations," Eric glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and he wipes off his face. "Four also called to tell me Max asked him to move. I'm not sure why he thought I'd care."

"Maybe he's just…trying to be nice," I suggest carefully, knowing their truce, also formed a single day ago, was on thin ice. Eric agreed to be civil because they needed the help, and Four agreed to drop his grudge against Eric.

It was easier said than done, but it was a start.

"He also asked if you're coming back. Apparently, Tris and Christina would like to see you." He presses the towel to his face, and his next words are muffled. "Tris isn't feeling very well, and he went on to say he thinks you two got off on the wrong foot."

"I agree," I stand up when Eric puts the towel back, and I look up at his face. He stares down at me, and there's no hesitation when he moves closer. He pulls me against him, and one hand moves to brush my hair back.

"What's wrong? You look like you're about to cry."

"I'm not," I lie, carefully, and he knows it. "I just…I just thought –"

Eric waits patiently.

He stands in the bathroom silently, surrounded by things so unlike Dauntless it must hurt every time he walks in, and he waits for me to tell him why I'm worried.

"What if you go back to Dauntless and you like it better without us?" I finally work up the nerve to ask him what's been on my mind. I try to think logically, remembering I was still feeling emotional over everything, and the only constant was my inability to feel like my old self. "I have a job there. Arlene and Max sent a card saying they gave me a position. I just can't go back yet. But if I don't, what if you like it better without him crying or me waking you up or wanting you to stay with us?"

"You think I'll go back and decide I don't want you there?" The confusion is all over his face, and he shakes his head. "I asked you to come back. I asked you to come with me."

"Yeah, but what if you get sick of us. How do you lead the faction when you're up all night?" I swallow down the sick feeling of him blearily blinking at me, and the imaginary scenario of him pulling on his uniform after getting no sleep. "He cries a lot and…and…what if I can't get him to stop or he gets sick or…"

I pause, and every single fear I've had over these past few days comes tumbling out. It wasn't so much I lacked the ability to care for my child or to make sure he was safe, but I had no clue how any of this worked with Eric. My memories with him are vibrant, but childless. An Everly in Amity, wearing a dress he could shove up was fun, but an Everly in his apartment with a crying infant wouldn't be.

"What if you just let me take care of you? Like I promised I would." Eric closes the remaining distance between us by pulling me and the baby closer, and his hand sinks further into my hair. "I don't have the answers to everything, but I can promise you I want you there. I wouldn't have come back if I didn't."

I nod, and I work very hard not to cry in front of him.

Not because I think he'd get mad, but because everything has been making me cry, including the thought of leaving Amity.

And I didn't even really want to stay.

"Why don't you let your mom watch the baby for a few hours. I'll lie down with you. I think you might need to sleep longer than twenty minutes," Eric looks at me carefully, and my tearful nod is quick. "I'll go give him to her. She said she was stopping by tonight. I'll walk him there if she's not here. Is he hungry?"

"He just ate," I tell him, and he slowly takes him from me. "Okay, I'll lie down. But just for an hour."

"Sure," Eric agrees, looking like he doesn't believe me, and he waits to make sure I'm alright. "I'll be right back."

"Okay."

He leaves before I can figure out how he knows where my mother is, or if she's even free to watch the baby for a few hours. I take a second to wash my own face, brush my teeth, and I stumble toward the bed in pure exhaustion. My eyes close before I hear the front door open, and I'm asleep before I hear it shut.

I dream of absolutely nothing, except falling asleep on Eric's chest.

I wake up on Eric's chest.

The clock beside the bed blinks far later than an hour, and I lift my head up slowly. Eric is dead asleep beneath me, his leg through mine, his shirt tossed aside, and his hair a mess. His arm is thrown over me, fingers curled possessively against my skin, and it's hard to move.

I don't care.

I lie right back down, pushing myself closer to him, and I realize this is exactly what I needed.

When I do wake up, a couple hours later when my mother returns with our son, I feel much more like myself.

"Close your eyes. I got you something. Don't open them until I say so."

The air in the room is heavy with excitement, both on my part and everyone else's. I close my eyes obediently, and I wait in impatient anticipation to see what Eric is giving me. It could be anything; another set of paperwork for me to fill out, these pages declaring my official, official place of residence as being in Dauntless, or it could be something he'd found, thinking he would surprise me.

Eric's affection isn't entirely rare, but it is definitely selected for those he wishes to bestow it upon.

I had experienced the gradual way he warmed up to someone, slowly lowering his defenses. He struggled with allowing himself to like me, the idea such a foreign concept for someone who felt emotions were for the weak. Against what he'd conditioned himself to think, he knew he liked being close to me. He liked being the one to keep me safe when he could, and he liked everything that happened when it wasn't supposed to. Arranged, secret meetings, kissing while pressed up against the massive Dauntless truck, while I tripped over the hem of my dress and his hands crept higher and higher up my skin. Eating lunch while he didn't answer his phone, and learning how to message him, slowly working my way into his everyday life.

I offered him the thrill of normalcy.

At first, our rendezvous were downright illegal. Our factions were worlds apart and stood for the exact opposite of each other. He was nothing but dark danger flirting with me on the edge of the woods, and I was every vulnerability he'd ever dreamt of. The allure of having someone soft beneath him, someone who wasn't in competition over who was the bravest or most fearless, but who wanted to be with him, and only him, was what he really wanted. I was who he wanted. I was safe, but not safe, for he had to risk his reputation by coming to Amity, and it had to feel good to finally conquer what you shouldn't want. To his surprise, in his quest to prove he could have me, he found he didn't just want me, he needed me.

It was the same for me.

Eric was living proof of a world beyond sprawling fields of crops and a lone general store. He was very real excitement, a risk given what could and did happen, and he felt like electricity every time I saw him. His life was his own. He reported only to those on his level, only if he wanted to. He had power, freedom, and ultimately, a life far beyond what I could comprehend. His days consisted not of growing plants and skipping beneath sunshine, but heart pounding moments made more real by the team who surrounded him.

There was some triumph in conquering him. It was easy to see he let no one get close. He kept his distractions minimal, and his world orderly. When things only picked up between us, it felt more powerful than any serum out there to watch him show up for lunch, all to spend a few hours with me. I had won. I had reeled him in, coaxing him close like he was the one afraid, until being apart felt more wrong than right.

Even at our closest, there were still secrets and things he preferred to keep to himself. Once the band-aid of his past was ripped off, it became clear his struggles were his own. I couldn't fix what had happened with his father, nor would I ever win his mother's approval. I could offer him something no one else could, and once he realized how it felt to be loved, that was all he needed. He was mine, willing to risk anything and everything to save me, including risking his position as a leader.

His friends were the recipients of not quite warm comradery, but an unending bond from both childhood and initiation. They were granted small, yet telling, insights into his personal and work life. Their lines blurred, childhood and teenage pacts upheld just like his promise of duty to his faction, and in return, he would kill for them.

They would do the same for him.

In fact, they did.

Two days ago, Rylan was arrested for murder.

The best part of the entire fiasco was Jack Kang came to Amity, on a gloriously sunny day when Eric was sweating and swearing and demanding we return to Dauntless right that very second, and loudly announced Ashley had been found dead. The evidence of her murder was grim: she'd been shot, cleanly through the head, and left with a note saying she had been working with Jeremy to turn the factions against Eric, and she was willing to pay for my murder.

By this point, nothing surprised me. I clutched Evan to my chest, his name selected by Eric in the middle of the night when he decided it had to start with E, and nothing else would suit him other than Eric's own name, and I tilted my head at Jack. He took in the puffy sleeves on my dress, a pretty light blue color with tiny flowers printed on it and made by Kerrie, and I shrugged.

I no longer feared death.

Especially at the hands of Ashley.

Being alive was much more terrifying when you really thought about it. Every day I woke, I could lose everyone I cared about. I tried not to think of it at a metaphoric level, or worse, take into account the risks of Eric's job, his travel, and his age. He loathed when I told him he appeared to be moving slower these days, at the insanely ancient age of twenty-five, and he hotly informed me he'd skipped all required physical therapy, downed a handful of vitamins, and was perfectly fine and just tired.

I was tired, sometimes.

Not all the time, though. I find a strange contentment in spending my days with Evan. Like Eric, he preferred the quiet. He loathed when Zander came over, after one mishap of Zander trying to shove a truck in his face and demanding they play together, and he was happiest on my chest, while I lounged on Eric's chest. He disliked when Eric left, and he and I both sunk into a cranky fit of sulkiness when Eric would return to Dauntless, even for a few hours.

He was in Amity when Jack came storming through, demanding Rylan be brought in for questioning. When pressed, he admitted Rylan was seen on the video entering the building where Ashley lived, then leaving wearing a dark hoodie as he skipped back to his truck. When Jack did call to ask him about it, Rylan cheerfully admitted he'd killed Ashley out of duty and honor to the Coulter family.

By the time Eric stopped snickering and told Jack he could arrest Rylan if he could catch him, Jack realized not only did Eric live in Amity most of the time, and our child was in my arms, Jason showed up and pointed out all the evidence would prove Ashley was guilty. The only outcry for justice on her part was the man who routinely cut her hair, disappointed he'd lost such a charming and gossipy client. We all stood there in a half circle while Jason went on to say, Ashley was just as guilty as Jeanine, and Jack ignored everyone but me. He didn't even notice Eric was wearing one of Forrest's shirts, or his boots were not the ones part of his Dauntless uniform.

He only noticed our son, peering back at him with a look of bored indifference, and he forgot about charging Rylan with anything.

Rylan, too, did not fear death.

He wandered over ten minutes later, winked as he kept walking by, and made a face mocking Jack as he headed to Carole's. He and Jason were here on business, the business of getting Eric and me back to Dauntless, and he had no time for Jack wanting to question him. He'd already admitted he'd killed Ashley, and days later, when Max did make him go to Candor to talk to Jack and his assistant, he was arrested. But once he confessed Peter had filled Four in on Ashley's plans, Four had in turn told Rylan, and Rylan took it upon himself to drop by and see Ashley, they let him go. Rylan made it very clear he didn't approve of anyone trying to hurt me, or his godson, or his best friend, so he took care of her himself.

It would also be revealed she had all kinds of information on me. A family tree, with notes about each member and where we could typically be found. Tiny remarks about how stupid we all are. A dismissive note about Hank being a moron and Kerrie being a homewrecker.

The worst were the notes about me, though: a slew of garbage about a minimal divergence –a cause Ashley was unwilling to let go, notes about my age –still eighteen, my marital status –still married, noted in extra, extra bold letters, and my son –written down only as Everly's child, not Eric's.

She was wrong.

She was also wrong about most of the other notes. I'd never sided with Evelyn, and my track record for attempted murders on my own life should have proved that. I'd never married Landon, never helped Four train anyone, and never once put together a rally for the factionless to have a voice. I don't not think they should have a voice, but not at the expense of my own life.

Eric didn't seem to show a single speck of regret about Ashley, nor did he disapprove of her death. He dryly informed Jack odds were, at some point, someone would realize she'd been an accomplice. Not to mention her own attempt at having Eric murdered, and the thinly veiled plans to have me watched in Amity. Eric and I both learned people were dangerous when they had to be, and in her mind, Ashley had every right to try and destroy us.

The joke was on her when she learned Eric's circle might have been tight, but they were loyal to a fault and it wound up being her demise.

"Can I open them now?"

I shift impatiently on the high chair, and I try not to fall off. Something is set down before me, and there is a murmur of appreciation. I half wonder if it's an animal Rylan has finally stolen. The squirrel he always wanted, or the duck he tried to adopt. Or maybe it was paperwork, asking me to sign up for paperless visits to the infirmary, or a lifetime supply of Arlene approved birth control.

"Yes."

It's none of those things.

I blink away darkness to more darkness but lit up before me is a cake. It's been baked in a circle, lavishly decorated with pale frosting, and covered in sugary, pastel flowers. They spill everywhere, painstakingly hand made to look as real as possible, and coated in faint sparkles. The candles on the cake are gold, and all nineteen of them are lit up.

For a moment, all I can do is stare. When my gaze rises up from the cake, made by Sophia's aunt, everyone in the room is looking at me. My entire family from Amity is here. Harrison is leaning across one of the other high tables, smiling as his staff mills around behind him, and my mother stands by his side. Zander is balanced on a bar stool, and his eyes are not on me, but on the bar, as he excitedly takes it all in and tries to touch the lantern above him. Hank and Kerrie are glancing around every so often, but mostly looking at me, all while they hold Evan.

The others are closer.

Jason and Meghan, waiting for me to blow out the candles.

Rylan and Christina, wearing matching black shirts and drinking matching beers.

Tris and Four, looking less out of place amongst the crowd and more like they've come to accept their lives are intertwined with everyone here. Karl and Jake, in the back, waving enthusiastically from their table with Sophia and Courtney. They're both happy here, deep below the Earth, and content with their chosen jobs. Jason had told me they were excellent soldiers, and it was likely they'd do well here.

There are others.

Forrest and Willow, sharing glasses of wine as he tries to figure out if he's missing a business opportunity. Leif and Wesley sitting by Paisley and Holly, trying to look unimpressed. Quinten, watching me like a hawk. Daniel and Camille, arriving late and in a hurry, but most importantly showing up at all. Charlotte, sitting with a girl I don't recognize, staring at Karl.

Kacie, staring me down like she can't believe I am here.

I glance around the room at everyone, and behind me, Eric leans down.

"Make a wish."

"How do I know it'll come true?" I answer him lowly, reaching out to touch the plate. The room is decorated for me, pretty balloons everywhere, streamers thread through the metal lanterns, and a banner announcing it is my birthday. "Are you going to guarantee it happens?"

I glance up at Eric, and the smirk on his face is telling.

"Yes."

I laugh as he nudges me, and from a distance, Zander lowly begins to chant he wants cake. Everyone laughs as he yells it louder, and when the attention isn't on me, I reach up to touch Eric's face. I hold onto him, fingers sliding up into his hair, and I close my eyes for just a second.

"You promise?"

"I do," Eric answers easily, and I open my eyes.

He pulls me closer, right as I have the feeling that just this once, my wish might come true. After all, things had slowly started working out in my favor, and there was no way a cake as sugary as the one before me would ruin this.

I make my wish, and I decide it will come true.

I'll make it happen.

"I know you wanted a fruit tower, but this was all they had." Eric nudges me with his nose, rare public affection on full display, and I work hard not to laugh as I blow out the candles. Everyone claps, Rylan whistles, and Jason offers to help cut the cake. I lean back against Eric, and he slides his arms around my waist, ducking his head down so his lips brush my cheek.

"Happy Birthday, Everly."

"Thank you. Thank you for planning this," I answer while Jason slides a plate over to me, and Rylan winks.

"How old is she now? Is this finally legal? Does she know you're turning thirty in a few months?"

Eric throws him a dark look, and I laugh at the glare on his face.

"I thought you said you no more secrets."

"I am not turning thirty," Eric hisses, and he takes the seat beside me. "You know what, no cake for you, Rylan."

"Hey!"

The party continues with almost every person having cake. I try to soak it all up, leaning against Eric's chest and watching everyone around me. It was beyond kind they'd all shown up to celebrate. I had imagined celebrating in Amity, where half of my belongings still were, but things had changed quickly, and a few days ago, Eric and I returned to Dauntless.

It wasn't planned by any means, but it made sense.

On a day when Eric had absolutely had it with May asking him if he'd seen her duck, and Andy and Andrea stopped by one too many times to see the baby, he got a call that Four had turned down the open leadership position. It sent Max into a fit of rage, and led the rest of the leaders to demand Eric's official, full time return. There wasn't any real danger lurking on the horizon, but Jason and Rylan were tired, Tori was scrambling to cover for Eric, and Max lost it when two of the newer members backed into the generator and knocked the power out.

Dauntless shut down quickly.

The control room went down, Kacie threatened to kill someone if they didn't get it back up, and the gates were unlocked. Squads that were out were left scrambling for communication, and it took calling Karl and Jake directly to find out where anyone was. When Rylan couldn't fix the generator, and Jason broke a pipe in the locker room and flooded it instead of helping, Arlene was called in.

She fixed everything.

She cornered Four and put the living fear of herself in him. When she threatened to erase his memories herself, he took the job and was immediately assigned an office. She banned Jason from the locker rooms. Rylan was given a reprieve, but only until she realized he'd gone home to take a nap. Harrison was called in to help restore power, and the last missing piece Dauntless needed, was us.

Arlene showed up right as we were eating lunch, and loudly announced this had been fun and she enjoyed the drive over, but it was time we get back to our rightful faction.

I had stared at her in confusion until she reminded me not only did I have a job, one which was desperately needed since things were still uneasy between the factions, but that I'd earned my spot there. She pointed out I'd survived being attacked, helped take down Evelyn, attempted to save Four's life, had brought Amity its newest leader, and finally, had gotten Eric to fall in love with me.

Both of us sat there staring at her, and she glared at him, insisting all of that was harder than any initiation I could have gone through and she'd give us three days before she returned with backup.

Leaving Amity was not something I was prepared for.

I'd longed for the day when I would no longer feel like I didn't fit in somewhere, and I'd looked forward to Eric showing up in the middle of the night to steal me away. He'd once boasted he could kidnap me if he wanted to, but it would feel better to be leaving on my own terms.

And I was.

I could choose to stay in Amity if I wanted.

Instead, I agreed to go, and I found myself wiping my eyes against Harrison's shirt as my entire world was packed up. Evan's things were carefully packaged by a fleet of soldiers. Jason and Rylan helped carry out most of the baby furniture, but they left enough so we could return. The house was staying in my name. I had the option of coming back any time I wanted to, and if Dauntless became too much, or Eric and I wanted a break, we could come back here.

The look of relief on Eric's face was priceless.

He stood by the truck, looking pleased as ever, and loudly waved us over. Our ride was quiet; I held on to Evan as tightly as I could, and before I could fully comprehend we were leaving Amity for good, we arrived. Eric parked in the back behind the trucks with my belongings, and he jumped out and told me to wait for him.

Two minutes later, Evan and I walked through the entryway to Dauntless.

I stood in place, pausing as his eyes flew up to the high ceiling, the thin sliver of light beaming down on us, and the cold chill rising up. I waited for him to cry, or freak out at being taken so far beneath the ground and into the dark, but he didn't. He raised one tiny fist in the air, waving it at me, almost as if he approved.

He approves now, too.

I smile at him in Hank's arms, and he blinks. His yawn is next, and he makes a face as Hank hands him over to Kerrie, and they both admire his black pajamas. He puts his head down on her chest and his eyes close.

He fit in here just fine, and I was starting to think so did I.

"Are you sure you want to go? Are you sure we have to go?"

I open my eyes to Eric, scowling as he pulls on his shirt. He buttons it with great exasperation, and I sleepily wonder where he's going. I'd gone to lie down with Evan a few hours ago, and I have no clue what time it is.

"No? Can I take this off? You want to stay home? I can order something for dinner. Quinten will be thrilled to do something other than cater Four's wedding –"

"That's today?" I sit up in pure horror, having been dead asleep in his bed.

My return to Eric's apartment felt like a dream. Not only were Jason and Rylan determined to make sure we did come back, they wanted it to be as seamless as possible. Eric agreed to let them turn his guest room into a nursery, and they worked fast. I could tell Christina had been here, too. There were a few girlier touches, a really soft looking stuffed dog propped up on a dark dresser, baby clothes more fashionable than practical, and more luxurious blankets on the rocker. There was a bathrobe for me, a slew of new pajamas and soft looking clothes, and finally, a note declaring we'd have lunch very soon and she could babysit whenever.

My return also meant I was back to sleeping in Eric's giant bed, and it was like collapsing into a bed of clouds. I'd put a suspicious looking Evan down into his bassinet a few feet away and conked out before my head hit the pillow. I was somewhat awake now, horrified at the thought of missing the one wedding I wanted to attend.

"No, it's on Saturday. Tonight is some stupid party for Four and Max said I had to go as part of my punishment for making him work for me while I was gone." Eric finishes buttoning up his shirt, and glances at himself in the mirror. "Jason and Rylan will be there. So will Four's lone friend, Zeke."

"A party?" I sit up further, fixing the oversized shirt so it's not falling off and I try to wake up even more.

It's hard.

The urge to fall back asleep is strong, but the clock beside the bed tells me it's almost six-thirty at night. I contemplate how much longer I could sleep and still go to bed at a reasonable hour, when Eric reaches for his belt.

It suddenly hits me that he's leaving, and I wonder how long he'll be gone for.

"How long is this party?" I peek over at Evan, still sound asleep, and I try not to shiver when Eric's air kicks on. "When will you be back? Seven? Seven-fifteen?"

Eric blinks at me.

He stands at the end of his bed, sliding the belt through the loops of his pants, and his expression is smug as his eyes flick over to the clock. They return to me, and he smirks. "Four is boring, but I'm assuming even he can stay out more than forty-five minutes."

"Oh," I deflate, and I try to think of a reason for him not to go. "Well, um…I'm sure it'll be…great. Really fun. You'll probably be gone all night."

"Everly," Eric says my name slowly, and I look back up at him. "Do you want me to stay home? I'll gladly tell Four I can't go. Tris and Christina were going to come by here if you were awake. I can tell them –"

"No," I protest, pushing the covers back as he walks around. "I'm fine. It's just…this will be the first night I've been alone with Evan. I can call you, right? If anything happens?"

His nod is immediate.

"I don't have a key, though." I look past him at the nightstand, and I don't know why I'd even need one this second. The odds of me getting up and wandering around the faction were slim. "And my phone is dead. So…"

"Your key is on the counter, with your point card, and a map Rylan drew you. Your phone is charging on my dresser. Arlene is only a few floors away if you absolutely panic, and Linda still lives a few doors down. You can also call me, and I'll come back." Eric sits down, and when I think he's going to hug me, he reaches for his shoes. I glare at him while he puts them on, and he shakes his head. "Tris wants to be your friend. Four doesn't want to be anyone's friend, but he has some weird loyalty to you and he asked…he asked if I'd ask you to be friends with her."

"I didn't think she liked me?" I scoot closer, and he slips an arm around my waist. "I tried to be her friend and she just sort of…I don't know. And you really let Four ask you for a favor?"

Eric is silent.

His head leans against mine, and his fingers curl into my side.

Since having the baby, he'd been very careful. He'd helped me out of the truck with all the gentleness he never knew he had, and he only held on so tightly while he slept. He'd barely kissed me past pressing his lips to mine once we were home, and even now, I have the feeling he's determined to prove he won't hurt me.

It was very telling of him, but incredibly frustrating.

He breaks the silence as Evan starts to wake up, and the room is filled with low, snuffling baby sounds. "He'll owe me forever. But…" Eric pauses, and his fingers inch up higher, coaxing me further onto his lap. "It'll be easier if you have friends here. Tris and Christina are two of the safest people in the faction to have on your side. I told him I'm sure it'll work out."

His words mean a lot. I know what he's trying to do, and that's make my life here easy. I never wanted to stay in Amity but we'd returned because Eric's ultimate obligation was to Dauntless. He would have to have given up everything he'd worked for to live in Amity, and neither of us really wanted to stay there.

Still, leaving had been harder than I'd expected. I'd hugged my mom goodbye while pretending I wasn't crying, and even Forrest looked bummed to see I was really leaving.

Being in Dauntless had been fine so far, but even Eric knew I couldn't sit in his apartment all day, with only him to talk to. The offer of friends, even ones who were being pushed in my direction, would be better than one. He knew the happier I was, the less likely I'd want to leave.

"Everly?"

I move closer, toying with the cuff of his sleeve. This button-down shirt isn't one I've seen him wear, but I like it. I touch the skin of his wrist, and he kisses the side of my head, then leaves his head against mine.

"Yeah, I think it will be fine. I'd like to see them," I agree, letting go when Evan starts to wiggle around. It only takes him a second to realize he's alone, and another to start crying. "I should go get him."

"I'll come back the second you need anything. You know that, right?" Eric doesn't drop his arm away just yet, not until I nod. "Okay. They should be here by seven. I'll have Quinten bring you guys dinner."

"Thanks," I slide off the bed, and I head over to Evan. He scrunches up his face in pure rage over being forced to sleep alone, but I was too scared to let him sleep in the bed with me. I had thought maybe it would be easier, but I wound up deciding it was safer if he was in his own space. "Will you call me if it's really fun? Just so I know?"

Eric stares while I pick up Evan and compared to his fancy boy's-night-out outfit, the baby and I are his worst nightmare. My hair is wrecked from sleeping, and Evan's pajamas are the ones he had on after he spit up on his other pajamas.

Oddly enough, Eric is unfazed.

He kisses me goodbye on the forehead. It's slow and boringly careful, so much that I miss the Eric who would have pulled my nightgown off and thrown it aside. It's disappointing when he makes no move to undress me; he touches Evan's head as he offers to help me with anything before he heads out the front door, and I wind up waving him away.

Evan and I will be just fine, and I figure I might as well get dressed before my new friends come over.

Eric is right.

Having girls over, even ones who I don't know as well as I know Sophia and Courtney, feels far better than I would have imagined. It's normal feeling, like this could be a common occurrence, and it helps lessen the dull ache of missing everyone in Amity.

Not to mention, I find out all the best gossip while Christina and Tris are over.

At first, there was only the barest hint of awkwardness to the evening. Christina was thrilled to see me, and Tris looked happy, but unsure. It all faded away when I invited them in, told them Quinten should be by any second, and he appeared before they could make it all the way in. Ten minutes later, we all sat on Eric's pristine couch, eating lasagna and salad while Evan busied himself on the playmat someone had given us. I thought he might hate it; it was large and bright, with all sorts of things for him to bat or look at, and he made a face when I put him down.

For a single second.

Then he caught his reflection, and he was busy staring at himself while I ate dinner.

I sink further against the cushion, listening to Christina tell me about Peter trying to get Four to help him take Eric down.

"Rylan was like, does he really think the plan would work? It's stupid to think anyone can take down Eric."

"Four told him he turned the cameras off, then sent back up to follow Peter. They only stopped when Peter was sitting at the edge of the woods for hours," Tris looks at me, with guilt all over her face. "If Four knew he was planning on shooting either of you, he would have called someone other than just a patrol squad."

"Did he know where Eric was going?" I listen curiously, trying to remember as much as I can about what they did here.

They both knew a lot about Dauntless, and it was fascinating to hear it from this side. Tris explained working for Kacie was a good job but could be stressful. She told me she'd caught sight of all sorts of things going on; sometimes, she watched fights or arguments play out while the faction went about its day, and sometimes she saw things like a marriage proposal as two soldiers stood on the edge of the roof and leapt off into the darkness. Her least favorite part of working in the control room was watching the members think they were alone when they weren't.

Christina didn't work there, but she knew a lot about Kacie. She also turned red when Tris admitted she'd clicked on a camera only to be rewarded with two people having sex somewhere they thought was private, and she then had to fill out all kinds of paperwork to have the footage deleted.

I laughed when she said Four often caught the worst of the offenders. Apparently, most of Dauntless believed the dark equaled privacy, and it always seemed to happen on his watch.

"He assumed he was going to see you. Eric was…" Tris pauses, carefully eating a bite of dinner. "While you were gone, Eric was a monster. A lot of people think he's a monster, but he truly was. Nothing anyone did would calm him down. He acted like the entire faction had ripped you away from him, and almost everyone was scared to go near him."

"He almost killed me," Christina adds, her tone cheerful as ever. "Rylan and I ran into him in the hallway, and when Rylan asked if he was okay, he tried to attack him. He told me it was my fault, too. But hey, I wanted you here! I told him maybe he shouldn't have been a spy for Erudite and then…it just escalated and…. maybe I deserved getting yelled at for that comment. But it's true!"

I laugh into my salad, picturing Eric storming through the faction and fighting anyone who dared call him out on his own actions. "It is true. I didn't know he attacked you. He left that part out when we talked."

"Of course, he did. He attacked everyone. So yeah, we assumed he was going to see you. Four said Harrison warned him to stay away from you, but he was convinced you were in trouble and going to the edge of Amity was all he could do. I guess he was right..." Tris trails off, and I know she's not Eric's biggest fan. "He did come back and sort of force Four into taking a better job, so there's that."

"Why didn't he want the leadership position? Rylan said it was Four or some guy named Chad and everyone hates Chad." Christina looks at her friend impatiently, and I wait, too. "You have to tell us. Or Everly will make Eric ask Four."

"He didn't want to work with Eric. He said it would be irritating to have to listen to him every day," Tris rolls her eyes. She glances down at Evan, swinging one uncoordinated hand at a dangling star shape, and he makes a noise of frustration when he misses completely. "Is he okay down there?"

"He's fine. I think he likes looking at himself. If he can see that far," I watch to make sure he's okay, then I shrug. "Four should take the job. Eric said they have high expectations for the leaders but they seem to have a lot of down time."

"Oh, they do." Tris laughs, looking at Christina. "I've seen Rylan not working more than I've seen him working."

"They get breaks," Christina retorts, and she sets her plate down. "Can I hold Evan? Rylan said he looks like him."

"Oh, he definitely does," I laugh as Tris snorts. "I'm pretty sure they have the same pajamas."

"They do," Christina coos at Evan, and he protests as she moves him away from looking up at himself. "Oh my gosh, he's huge! How on Earth did you push him out? He's half the size of you!"

I crack up as she feigns struggling to pick him up higher, and he scowls at her. I look over at Tris, and for a brief second, she looks horrified. It's gone as quickly as it came, but I'm sure she's wondering the same thing.

She wasn't much taller than me, nor was she much bigger.

"Well, he was a little smaller when I had him. It was all so fast I didn't really have time to think about it. It just…happened," I answer slowly, hoping my explanation is helpful. "It hurt, but the second he was born, it was all over."

"You really had him in Amity?" Tris looks away to glance at Evan, and she touches the back of his head gently. He turns to look at her, and she smiles when he stares up at her face without blinking. "I know you've probably heard this a lot, but he looks just like Eric. He sort of looks like you, but he could be Eric's clone."

"He's going to be tall. Aren't you?" Christina holds him up, then offers him to Tris. "Here, you should practice before she –"

Christina stops and Tris looks at me sheepishly. I have no clue why, but she very gingerly takes hold of Evan, and she pulls him closer to her. There's a slight apprehension that's gone when he grudgingly accepts that she's holding him, and he stares at her hair with great scrutiny.

"We're having a girl. Or at least that's what the ultrasound tech guessed. Four is terrified she's going to wind up falling in love with Eric's son. He already told me you're very nice and it'll be great to have another mom so close to my age, but…he let it slip that Eric is very persuasive and uh, I guess he's worried your baby will use his persuasiveness to trick another baby into marrying him. He said a lot of people in Amity get married really young."

"Oh, they do," I nod my head, and I reach for my drink. "It's really common to marry right away, and to have a bunch of kids. But don't worry. Eric and I already talked about this. Evan has to wait until he's at least two to get married. Anything else would be completely out of the question."

She and Christina both burst out laughing. Christina chokes on her drink, and Tris smiles as Evan scrunches up his face in disapproval.

"Four will be very relieved to hear this," she laughs again, and Evan stares at her with an unamused glare. "Everly, he looks just like Eric. Eric gave me the exact same look during initiation. Does he sleep well?"

"Sort of," I glance at my phone, and to my surprise, I have ten messages blinking up at me. "He wakes up to eat and then goes right back to sleep."

"That's not bad. Plus, he's pretty cute," Tris tries to make him laugh, and I use the opportunity to read the messages.

They're all from Eric.

I smile at each one, and his desperation to be at home and away from whatever bar they'd gone to becomes stronger and stronger.

_I hope you're okay. We just got here. This place is dumb and loud. I hope dinner is good._

_Is Evan awake?_

_Everly._

_Are you awake?_

_Is everyone sleeping?_

_Did you and Tris become friends yet?_

_Four is drunk and so is Rylan. I think they're about to fight each other._

_Rylan won._

_Jason says hello._

_Everly, let me know you're alright._

I respond quickly, carefully tapping out that I'm absolutely fine, dinner is really good, and Evan is awake. I tell him Tris and I are well on our way to being friends, I hope Rylan and Four are not really fighting, and I can't wait until he's home.

He responds immediately, and I read it while Christina and Tris shriek in excitement over Evan cracking the barest of all smiles at them.

_I have something for you. I'll see you soon._

"Close your eyes."

I listen, again, and I wait for whatever surprise Eric has in store.

He'd come home almost exactly right when he said he would, and he dryly informed me he was only a minute late because he had to walk everyone home. Their night out had taken a turn for the drunker when Rylan and Jason kept ordering drinks and Four wasn't really paying attention. Eric and Zeke were the only two not wasted, and therefore the ones to make sure no one died on the walk back.

Once home, Eric helped me give Evan a bath and put him to bed, then he told me to get in bed, and he disappeared into the bathroom.

I listened to him brush his teeth, half asleep as he turned the water off and opened the cabinet. By the time I felt him climb into bed with me, I was seconds away from drifting off.

"They are closed. It's late," I mumble, and he fumbles for my hand. "What are you doing?"

"Just wait."

He takes my hand in his, turning it over and examining my fingers one by one, until he stops. His silence is followed by the feeling of cold metal being slid over my finger, past my knuckle, until it's all the way on my finger.

"I found it in your things. I think Camille packed it up at the hospital and it got put away with your clothes."

I open my eyes to him looking down at me, my hand still in his, and the ring he'd given me sparkling in the low light of his bedroom. He stares at my hand until he's happy with it, and I sit up to look at him. The ring is heavier than I would have thought. I've never had any kind of jewelry like this, or any jewelry at all really. I hold up my hand to look at the dark band, the bright diamond and the black stones, and I try to imagine him picking it out.

Even Eric admitting he had a wife would have been quite the sight.

"I was going to give it to you later, but I felt like tonight was better."

"Do you have one for you?" I watch him nod, and he leans over to pick something up off the nightstand. It's a band similar to mine, maybe a little darker. "Wait, can I see it?"

I turn to face him, ignoring the way my nightgown slips down my shoulder and the sheets are a mess around me. I take the ring from him, surprised at how heavy his is, and I hold onto it.

The symbolism of them isn't lost on me.

"I got them at the market. There's a man who makes them. No one here really wears them, but I thought…I thought maybe you'd feel better if everyone could see you're married. I was going to give it to you before the simulation happened." Eric pauses and his eyes find mine. "You don't have to wear it, but –"

"Let me see your hand," I reach out, smiling when he listens. He watches me intently, quiet as ever while I carefully slide the ring down his finger, and his eyes flash when I smile triumphantly. "There. Now everyone will know who I'm married to. Just in case they get confused."

His smile is quick.

It's haughty, arrogant because he's gotten what he wanted, but also very, very real. There's a rush of delight behind his eyes, something he assumed was only for others, and he grins even wider when I lean into him.

"What was your birthday wish?" Eric lets go to take my face in his hands. He slides his fingers deeper into my hair, drawing me closer, until I'm almost on his lap. He looks down at me, and I look up at him, and I make him wait for just a second before I tell him.

After all, I'd decided I'd make my wish come true, but it already had.

"I just want to be happy with you. Forever. Oh, and that no one would ever try to murder me again."

He smiles again, this time smugly, and his nose touches mine. Eric smells good, like the dark bourbon he'd probably downed while scowling at his friends, and the expensive soap he'd washed his face with. He closes his eyes as I close mine, and his words are low and warm.

"Oh good. I was expecting something like, must live next door to Four and Tris for the rest of our lives."

I laugh right up until he kisses me, soft and slow, completely and utterly content.


	29. Eric and Everly Coulter, Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Bamberlee for editing.  
> Thank you SO much to those who read along with this story! I hope you enjoyed it!

"Look!"

The world ends and begins on a Tuesday, on a dark and stormy afternoon, when the snow threatens, and the skies are black. The outside is harsh; the snowfall has been lingering in the skies for days now, promising to storm at any moment's notice. The air is freezing, biting and sharp and painful to be outside, and it's forced almost everyone inside.

In Dauntless, the faction is shutting down and preparing to be trapped inside for at least a few days. Soldiers had been sent to outposts; the few who were working rotating patrols at the furthest positions would stay put, monitoring things from afar, and the ones who worked inside would prepare for the impending power outages.

The other factions would do the same.

Candor had closed all offices and courts. Jack Kang had released a statement saying all trials would be put on hold for the next week, and if needed, even longer. Abnegation had taken in all the factionless they could. They'd converted an older, abandoned building as a makeshift shelter, and the sprawling space –while still cold –would provide much needed shelter from the storm.

Erudite would be fine. They had more backup generators than they could ever need, but most would be used to power the hospital. They, too, were closing down the stores and shops, and only one brave coffee shop was remaining open.

Here, in Amity, the faction had wound down early this morning. The kitchens were closed, the general store was dark, and almost every member had returned home. The Amity army, a team created by Harrison, would man a few posts, but it was unlikely there would be much trouble.

Things were very different these days.

"Do you see daddy?"

I sit in the giant window with Evan, watching the first snowflakes fall onto the patio.

He's almost two now, tall and impatient, and he's waiting for Eric to return.

My life was nearly unrecognizable from when I'd left Amity for good, but in the best way possible. I'd moved to Dauntless to live with Eric, a decision I'd been forced into making for the sake of wanting to be with him. Amity held nothing but my family, and while a huge part of my life, I wasn't willing to stay here on my own.

The thought of raising Evan by myself was enough to solidify my move. I'd watched my mother struggle while Hank was gone, and I'd experienced her struggling to raise Forrest and myself while Harrison was gone. My sacrifice wasn't entirely selfish; I wanted to be happy, but I wanted Eric to be happy as well.

We are.

Life in Dauntless was far from what I expected. I was given a job as the Dauntless Ambassador to the Factions. I was nineteen when I accepted it, and despite a few funny looks and some expected missteps, I enjoyed it. I got to visit Daniel whenever I went to Erudite, I got to know the Candor courts and witness all sorts of cases imperative for keeping the peace, and I became friendly with Tris' family in Abnegation. The only struggle there was Four's father. Marcus did not like me from the day he met me. I found him strange, like he was hiding something, and he knew it. He immediately dismissed me as being too young to add any real value to his council, and when I refused to give up, I uncovered all sorts of allegations against him. Eric willingly led the hunt to take him down, and as Four watched with his lips pressed together when I had enough to prove who he really was, I was able to have a secretly violent and terrible man removed from power.

That move helped further my reputation. I found myself bringing awareness to those who couldn't speak up for themselves. In Erudite, I found cases where children were pushed to the breaking point to be smart, and teachers who were willing to overlook everything and anything to make sure they were held to impossibly high standards. In Candor, I sat with Jack's assistant, going through cases where the victims were wrongfully prosecuted, or mistrials where things were manipulated. In Amity, I sat by my father, and listened to him talk about farmers needing a break, and the slow integration of willing factionless to help out.

Things were good.

Really good.

I spent a weekend at Four's wedding, a quick ceremony in front of a small group of his friends and an even smaller group of family, and I celebrated by eating oddly bland food. I officially married Eric in our own ceremony, large and extravagant and in front of so many people my head spun. I was given a dress so dark it seemed to be made of dreams, and so elegant it was hard to imagine someone had thought of me while making it.

I kissed him in front of the Dauntless faction while everyone stared. The conquering of Eric Coulter was an impressive feat, and even more impressive was his happiness. I'd caught a few snippets of conversation around the faction, whispers of how I was hardly who they imagined he'd end up with. There were a lot of reasons why we shouldn't work: I was younger, far less experienced, far softer and more naïve than him, and I hadn't chosen Dauntless.

They were always corrected by whoever they were speaking with. Jason and Rylan had done a fantastic job of explaining why their friend's marriage was, according to them –goals. Eric and I shared the same desire to be happy together. I was brave, braver than someone who chose Dauntless because they were bored, and braver than someone who'd never had a person decide they wanted them dead. I understood how Eric worked, I was patient, and my age was always dismissed by saying I could have picked Dauntless, Eric himself could have trained me, and I would have wound up marrying him anyway.

Even better, I was Harrison's daughter.

There was a certain lore to Eric marrying another leader's daughter, especially one hidden far away in another faction.

I saw the raw jealously on the faces of girls I'd never seen before, imagining themselves in my place, or better yet, lusting over the fairytale of Eric rescuing them.

I thought of all those reasons when my hands touched his cheeks to kiss him even longer. His hair was sharp; his dark suit was so dark he looked powerful and otherworldly, and I willingly accepted my place as not only his wife, but a valuable member of the Dauntless faction.

It took some time, but I learned the maze-like layout of the faction. I learned which stores were run by certain members, and I knew the names of the servers at Clyde's. I liked it there best. I learned how to order from Quinten when I didn't feel like figuring out Eric's stove, and I learned all the secret routes, hidden passageways, and spiraling staircases the general members didn't use.

My relationship with Eric was easy, but sometimes not.

While I was the closest person to him, this meant I had to figure out what to do when he, himself, couldn't figure out his own moods. His life of solitude changed forever with the addition of Evan and me, and while it was what he wanted, occasionally, he tripped over a baby toy or Evan and I both wanted him to sit with us, and he looked mildly stressed.

It always worked out. Evan and I gave him space. I didn't need him to be happy for myself to be happy, and this self realization led Eric to realize my independence was something he'd given me. I found contentment in watching our son grow, and some grudging amazement in how much he looked like his father. Sometimes, I caught flashes of Daniel in Evan's expressions, and I knew he was smart.

He quickly learned I'd pick him up the second he cried, and he'd get his way by blinking up at me with large, grey eyes.

Tris had been right.

He was persuasive.

Adalyn, Four and Tris' daughter, was his most favorite person in the entire world. From the moment she was born, he stared at her in total awe. Eric and Four both looked like they might pass out when I held both Evan and Adalyn on my lap, and Evan reached over and grabbed onto her hand. She was pretty, far tinier than him, and her hair was blonde. She stared up with all the seriousness a few day-old baby could, and I knew he'd marry her.

He'd follow in Eric's footsteps to find a way to be with her.

Even now, while waiting for Eric, he's also waiting for Adalyn.

"Addy?"

"They're coming, too." I move closer to him, his soft black shirt untucked and his dark pants soft and fitted. Eric had looked horrified at them, but they fit into the tiny boots easier and I liked how adorable he looked.

"Daddy!"

Addy and Daddy were often mixed up, but I always knew who he was talking about. Right now, he was pointing at Eric, parking the large truck right over someone's carefully cleared out garden. I can barely make out his dark uniform jacket, and I grin when he jumps out of the truck, ignoring someone yelling hello at him.

"DADDY!"

Evan yells through the glass, and I'm surprised when Eric hears him. He looks at both of us, sitting in the large living room window, watching him.

He waves, and his lips turn up ever so slightly.

The night is cold, but inside it's warm.

The family here is one made of both real family, an endless stream of brothers and sisters, mother and fathers, and now nephew and niece, and our friends. Four and Tris sit with Harrison and Kerrie, talking quietly. Hank and my mother work to finish dinner, having taken over my kitchen with the help of May and Jerry. Christina and Rylan are talking with Jason and Meghan, and all four of them are sitting with my brothers and sisters. Forrest interrupts every so often to drop off drinks, and Willow floats around, holding not only her newest baby, but Kerrie's.

I had expected this news to sting. It came on a day when Evan and I both had terrible days, and nothing, not even the chocolate cake Eric brought home made it better.

But it didn't.

Hank called me to talk once I got Evan to bed, and his fifth child was one he was not expecting. His voice struggled with both pride and happiness, for his own youngest was nearly fourteen now, and I immediately decided the news was good news. Fiorella was born in the spring, with soft, golden hair, and the bluest eyes I'd ever seen.

Even now, she sits on Willow's hip, chewing on a stuffed squirrel, and her dainty pink dress is spotless. Kerrie had made it, much like everything she gifted everyone in the family, even Evan's sweaters.

He sits with Zander and Adalyn, both watching Zander explain how you could build a rocketship to the moon.

"The storm is about to hit!" Sophia, honorary godmother to Evan rushes by me, and I glance out the window.

The sky is dark from nightfall but swirling with clouds and snowflakes. So far, it had been amounting to nothing, but it was coming.

"Everly, is this enough?" I turn away from the window, having been watching the scene unfold before me like one of Eric's movies, to see him standing there. He shakes the snowflakes out of his hair, and his thick coat is Harrison's.

Despite being the proud owner of a vacation home in Amity, Eric refused to own anything hinting he had property here. His boots and shirts were from the days he'd spent secretly visiting, and his coats were ones Harrison forced at him so he didn't succumb to hypothermia.

"You chopped all the wood?" I take his hand in mine, freezing and rough, and he exhales heavily. "You're freezing, Eric!"

"Well, it's about to snow," he retorts, but he pulls me along with him. I follow willingly, despite being dressed more for bed than anything, and I find the outside temperature too much for me. "Wait, let me get a coat!"

"Here, take mine." Eric shrugs his off, and I'm immediately encompassed in both warmth, and the smell of him. He leads me down a few steps before he stops, and he gestures at the large pile of firewood he'd chopped. "You know, modern heating is a great invention. And you know where we have that?"

His dark look is all for show.

We'd spent some time here after Evan was born. Lulled by having a tiny baby and a wife who still had family in Amity, Eric had agreed to come back when Evan was a few months old. Our nights were spent in total bliss, curled up away from the family, away from our sleeping son, in a room warmed by a fire. The house didn't have central heating, true, but each room was warmed the best it could be from a furnace, and it worked just fine.

Much like his father, Evan didn't mind the cooler weather, and he kicked off every blanket or sleeper I put on him.

"You promised me at least a week. Maybe two if the storm is bad," I rise up on my toes to kiss him, and his grunt of protest is more at leaving Max in charge of Dauntless with only Tori to help. "I'll make it up to you, tonight."

"Uh huh," Eric breaks away to shake his head, and he's learned my family will stay forever if no one sends them home. "Sure. Rylan is already hinting it'll be too snowy to drive back. Four will probably decide the same."

"They're all staying with Hank and Kerrie," I remind him, and I have to admit, the sight of Eric before me is enough to make me smile.

I was lucky I'd run into him on the pathway.

"Besides, if the power doesn't go out, we can watch a movie. Rylan said he had one you might like. Something about…cats? People as cats who sing and dance?"

Eric raises both eyebrows at me, and his horror is expected.

"I love you, but if you make me watch a movie about cats, or teenage vampires, again, we're getting a divorce and you can marry the guy at the general store."

I laugh so hard I nearly fall off the stairs and he catches me before I slip.

"Pretty sure Judd is too deep into his conspiracy theories to get married."

"I guess you'll be factionless then," Eric dryly retorts, but he kisses my temple, and he stays there. "Are you going to tell everyone tonight? Or this week?"

I shake my head no, and I hold on tighter.

"We'll keep it between you and me for a while."

He agrees. We stay outside to admire his hard work, the pile of wood he'd been chopping and the snow slowly piling up, until it becomes too cold. We head back inside together, his hand in mine, and we only part ways so he can go take a quick shower.

Twenty minutes later, he and I sit down to eat dinner, and no one leaves until the storm officially hits, banging on the windows and doors with such force that for a second, I think the house might come apart.

"I missed you."

Eric bites these words into my neck.

I laugh even though he's dead serious, because he meant he missed me while I put Evan to bed. His bedtime routine was slightly longer since he was wound up from seeing everyone, and he refused to miss a single minute of excitement. I'd put him to bed as his eyes closed, and he clutched the stuffed dog to his chest, now slightly worn and having been sewn back together by his grandfather a few times. He was out before I could shut the door, and not even the occasionally howling wind or crack of thunder would wake him.

"You were gone forever. I was sure someone had come back, wanting to stay here."

I smile as my fingers slide up into his hair, and my back is pressed against the wall. The sounds of the storm pick up, and the air crackles every time the fire pops. Our room is warm, large and expansive thanks to Harrison's renovations, and far enough away from everything that even if someone did stay, they likely wouldn't come this way.

"Desperation isn't cute, Eric," I remind him seriously, and my fingers sink into the shortest part of his hair as he picks me up.

He lets out a bark of laughter against my neck, but he doesn't deny it.

He is desperate.

He'd been staring at me all through dinner, chewing his food like it had personally wronged him.

"You would think one of the leaders of Dauntless would have far more patience –"

I'm cut off when he kisses me, purposefully slow, and I find myself the desperate one when he breaks away.

"The Leader," he reminds me, as if I'd forgotten this turn of events.

A few weeks ago, Max had stepped down. Dauntless tradition required him to take another position somewhere in the faction or say his goodbyes and walk right off the chasm into a watery death. After much discussion amongst the others –Four, Jason, Rylan, and Tori – it was decided there was no need or honor in death when Max had plenty of things to offer the faction. Gone were the days of offing one's self like a sacrifice to prove your fearlessness. Bravery ran deeper than overseeing a faction or pounding the pavement as a soldier. Max's value was deemed more important than proving any of this, and he was the first member of Dauntless to officially retire.

It took some convincing of the faction to change their mindset. It was long ingrained that bravery only came from showmanship, and this new thinking, that every single person in their faction was important, took a few by surprise.

In the end, no one really protested.

Once things settled down, Eric became the official Leader. The others were still leaders, but since Eric was the one who made most of the decisions, his friends shirking the heavy responsibility in favor of keeping their lives the way they were, they agreed. Tori didn't want the job, and Four hadn't been in the position long enough to be considered. It was a job well suited for Eric, and he took great pride, and occasional annoyance, at his new responsibility.

He also had taken a few days to convince Max to help out while we all went to Amity. He agreed to help Tori, but really, the only thing they would be doing was making sure the faction was still operational.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir. How did I forget?" I laugh when his eyes darken, and his hands move up my side. A second passes before he moves away from the wall, and my back hits the bed, carefully.

"Are you feeling okay?" He hovers over me while he works, shoving the nightgown up. I sit upright to help him pull it off, and his own shirt follows. I take a second to appreciate the view before me, the defined muscles of his chest tightening as he nudges me back down, and the dip of his waist as he kicks his underwear off. "Everly, are you –"

"I'm good. Totally fine, I promise. I won't throw up on you."

My hands thread through his hair to pull his head down toward me, and his mouth returns to mine. He returns to me too, pushing inside of me without any further hesitation. I'm pressed into thick cold sheets, warmed by him, until he's covering me completely.

Our second child will be born near the beginning of Spring.

I was expecting to never entertain the thought of a second child, not when Evan was all I ever could have hoped for. But I like the idea, especially now as my hands move to touch Eric's shoulders, the muscles taut and smooth as he moves his hips, and my legs rise up to coax him closer.

I can't imagine not welcoming her into our family, maybe with dark hair like mine, or maybe blonde hair like Eric's, and getting to see Eric cradling his child for the second time. I can't imagine our family being any more complete, but I know it will. Eric had wanted a family long before I did, and I now understood why. He was loved by all of us in a way no one else understood.

Unconditionally.

Evan waited for him to come home, wearing a tiny replica of the uniform his father wore, and he worshiped the ground he walked on. He fought hard for his father's approval, which came easily. Evan is smart and quick, just as fearless as Eric, and sometimes, as terrifyingly brave as well.

Their bond was unbreakable. Eric offered Evan his full attention, combing his hair in the mornings while he brushed his teeth, and never pushing him away, even when he had work to do.

A second child shouldn't fit into this, but she did. When I told Eric, quietly, not sure if he'd be pleased or furious, his eyes widened. He pulled me to him before I could explain there was an error with one of the shots I'd been given, and rather than birth control, I'd been injected with a heavy dose of allergy medicine.

For days, I'd walked around feeling groggy and exhausted, thinking it was a side effect of the birth control. At a certain point, the exhaustion became permanent, sneaking up out of nowhere, and I realized I wasn't tired from chasing after Evan, but from being pregnant.

He kissed me, pressed his nose into my hair, and lowly informed me that this time, we really would have to move.

We'd made the decision to keep it quiet. We'll tell everyone at some point. There will be a party, lots of shrieks of excitement and lots of stares of disbelief since Eric had made it very clear our lives were private. Telling them invited them into our world, one created by a single encounter, changing our lives forever, and it was something we both tried to do as little as possible.

Even tonight was a lot for us. We loved them, our family created out of chaos, but we were very happy with just us.

"I love you," Eric mumbles my name, grunting as he moves faster, closer, and he purposely reaches up to take my left hand in his. He threads his fingers through mine, tightly, and my wedding ring clinks against his.

For now, I keep this secret close, just between us.


End file.
